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ryo'j/^  ^fa^i//^  ^ Wl^^^^/i^^-^:^^^ 


''-am^ /Zd^tx<:<^^ic/  .^gj^;^ 


6"U%>l7?e  ./-//V/./.../  /^i^-^^X^^^,.^^^^.^^^^./^ 


'kwkts  uy,Orisdi  Civt 


GUY    FAWKES; 


OR, 


THE   GUNPOWDER    TREASON. 


Mn  %}inUvitai  Mom^me. 


BY 


WILLIAM  HARRISON  AINSWORTII, 

AUTHOR  OF  THE  '"'tOWEU  OF  LONDON,''  ''"JACK  SHEPl'AHD,'*  ^C. 


"  You  shall  awear  by  tliu  blessed  Trinity,  a)i(l  by  the  sacrament  ymi  now  pruposR  to  receive,  never  to 
disclose  directly  or  indirectly,  byword  or  circumstance,  the  matter  I  hat  Bhall  be  jjroposed  to  you  to  keep 
secret;  nor  desist  from  the  execution  thereof  till  the  rest  shall  give  yuu  leave." 

Oatli  of  the  Conspirators. 


iniiLADELPIlIA: 
LEA     AND    BLANC  HARD, 

1S4L 


T.  K.  &    P.    G.   COLLINS,  Primers 
Ko.  1  Lodge  Alley. 


TO 


MRS.   HUGHES, 

KINGSTON    LISLE,    BERKS. 


My  Dear  Mrs.  Hughes, 

You  are  aware  that  this  Romance  was  brought  to  a  close  during  my 
last  brief  visit  at  Kingston  Lisle,  when  the  time  necessary  to  be  devoted 
to  it  deprived  me  of  the  full  enjoyment  of  your  society,  and,  limiting 
my  range — no  very  irksome  restriction — to  your  own  charming  garden 
and  grounds,  prevented  me  from  accompanying  you  in  your  walks  to 
your  favourite  and  beautiful  downs.  This  circumstance,  which  will 
suffice  to  give  it  some  interest  in  your  eyes  by  associating  it  with  your 
residence,  furnishes  me  with  a  plea,  of  which  I  gladly  avail  myself,  of 
inscribing  it  with  your  name,  and  of  recording,  at  the  same  time,  the 
high  sense  I  entertain  of  your  goodness  and  worth,  the  value  I  set  upon 
your  friendship — a  friendship  shared  in  common  with  some  of  th6  most 
illustrious  writers  of  our  time — and  the  gratitude  I  shall  never  cease  to 
feel  for  attentions  and  kindnesses  little  less  than  maternal,  which  I  have 
experienced  at  your  hands. 

In  the  hope  that  you  may  long  continue  to  diffuse  happiness  round 
your  own  circle,  and  contribute  to  the  instruction  and  delight  of  the 
many  attached  friends  with  whom  you  maintain  so  active  and  so  inte- 
resting a  correspondence;  and  that  you  may  live  to  see  your  grandsons 
fulfil  their  present  promise,  and  tread  in  the  footsteps  of  their  high- 
minded  and  excellent-hearted  father — and  of  his  father!  I  remain 
Your  aflectionatc  and  obliged  friend, 

W.   IIarKJSON  AiNSWORTlI. 

Kensal  Manor  House,  Harrow  Koad, 
July  2H,  181L 


PREFACE. 


The  tyrannical  measures  adopted  against  the  Roman  Catholics  in  the 
early  part  of  the  reign  of  James  the  First,  when  the  severe  penal  enact- 
ments against  recusants  were  revived,  and  with  additional  rigour,  and 
which  led  to  the  remarkable  conspiracy  about  to  be  related,  have  been 
so  forcibly  and  faithfully  described  by  Doctor  Lingard,*  that  the  follow- 
ing extract  from  his  history  will  form  a  fitting  introduction  to  the  present 
work. 

"The  oppressive  and  sanguinary  code  framed  in  the  reign  of  Eliza- 
beth, was  re-enacted  to  its  full  extent,  and  even  improved  with  additional 
severities.  Every  individual  who  had  studied  or  resided,  or  should 
afterwards  study  or  reside  in  any  college  or  seminary  beyond  the  sea, 
was  rendered  incapable  of  inheriting,  or  purchasing,  or  enjoying  lands, 
annuities,  chattels,  debts,  or  sums  of  money,  within  the  realm;  and  as 
missionaries  sometimes  eluded  detection  under  the  disguise  of  tutors,  it 
was  provided  that  no  man  should  teach  even  the  rudiments  of  grammar 
in  public  or  in  private,  without  the  previous  approbation  of  the  diocesan. 

"The  execution  of  the  penal  laws  enabled  the  king,  by  an  ingenious 
comment,  to  derive  considerable  profit  from  his  past  forbearance.  It 
was  pretended  that  he  had  never  forgiven  the  penalties  of  recusancy; 
he  had  merely  forbidden  them  to  be  exacted  for  a  time,  in  the  hope  that 
this  indulgence  would  lead  to  conformity;  but  his  expectations  had  been 
deceived;  the  obstinacy  of  the  Catholics  had  grown  with  the  lenity  of 
the  sovereign;  and,  as  they  were  unworthy  of  further  favour,  they 
should  now  be  left  to  the  severity  of  the  law.  To  their  dismay,  the 
legal  fine  of  twenty  pounds  per  lunar  month  was  again  demanded,  and 
not  only  for  the  time  to  come,  but  for  the  whole  period  of  the  suspension; 
a  demand  which,  by  crowding  thirteen  payments  into  one,  reduced  many 
families  of  moderate  incomes  to  a  state  of  absolute  beggary.  Nor  was 
this  all.  James  was  surrounded  by  numbers  of  his  indigent  countrymen. 
Their  habits  were  expensive,  their  wants  many,  and  their  importunities 
incessant.  To  satisfy  the  more  clamorous,  a  new  expedient  was  devised. 
The  king  transferred  to  them  his  claims  on  some  of  the  more  opulent 
recusants,  against  whom  they  were  at  liberty  to  proceed  by  law,  in  his 
name,  unless  the  sufferers  should  submit  to  compound  by  the  grant  of 
an  annuity  for  life,  or  the  immediate  payment  of  a  considerable  sum. 

*  Vide  History  of  England,  vol.  ix,  New  Edition. 


Vi  PREFACE. 

This  was  at  a  time  when  the  jealousies  between  the  two  nations  had 
reached  a  height,  of  which,  at  the  present  day,  we  have  but  little  con- 
ception. Had  the  money  been  carried  to  the  royal  coffers,  the  recusants 
would  have  had  sufficient  reason  to  complain;  but  that  Englishmen 
should  be  placed  by  their  king  at  the  mercy  of  foreigners,  that  they 
should  be  stripped  of  their  property  to  support  the  extravagance  of  his 
Scottish  minions,  this  added  indignity  to  injustice,  exacerbated  their 
already  wounded  feelings,  and  goaded  the  most  moderate  almost  to  des- 
peration." From  this  deplorable  state  of  things,  which  is  by  no  means 
over-coloured  in  the  above  description,  sprang  the  Gunpowder  Plot. 

The  county  of  Lancaster  has  always  abounded  in  Catholic  families, 
and  at  no  period  were  the  proceedings  of  the  ecclesiastical  commission- 
ers more  rigorous  against  them  than  at  that  under  consideration.  Man- 
chester, "the  Goshen  of  this  Egypt,"  as  it  is  termed  by  the  fiery  zealot. 
Warden  Heyrick,  being  the  place  where  all  the  recusants  were  impri- 
soned, the  scene  of  the  early  part  of  this  history  has  been  laid  in  that 
town  and  its  immediate  neighbourhood.  For  the  introduction  of  the 
munificent  founder  of  the  Blue  Coat  Hospital  into  a  tale  of  this  descrip- 
tion I  ought,  perhaps,  to  apologize,  but  if  I  should  succeed  by  it  in 
arousing  my  fellow-townsmen  to  a  more  lively  appreciation  of  the  great 
benefits  they  have  derived  from  him,  I  shall  not  regret  what  I  have 
written. 

In  Viviana  Radcliffe  I  have  sought  to  portray  the  loyal  and  devout 
Catholic,  such  as  I  conceive  the  character  to  have  existed  at  the  period. 
In  Catesby,  the  unscrupulous  and  ambitious  plotter,  masking  his  designs 
under  the  cloak  of  religion.  In  Garnet,  the  subtle,  and  yet  sincere 
Jesuit.  And  in  Fawkes  the  gloomy  and  superstitious  enthusiast.  One 
doctrine  I  have  endeavoured  to  enforce  throughout — Toleration. 

From  those  who  have  wilfully  misinterpreted  one  of  my  former  pro- 
ductions, and  have  attributed  to  it  a  purpose  and  an  aim  utterly, foreign 
to  my  own  intentions,  I  can  scarcely  expect  fairer  treatment  for  the  pre- 
sent work.  But  to  that  wider  and  more  discriminating  class  of  readers 
from  whom  I  have  experienced  so  much  favour  and  support,  I  confi- 
dently commit  these  volumes,  certain  of  meeting  with  leniency  and 
impartiality. 


CONTENTS. 


Dedication 
Preface 


Page 
iii 

V 


BOOK  THE  FIRST. 


THE  PLOT. 

Chapter 

I.  An  Execution  in  Manchester,  at  the  beginning  of  the  Seventeenth 

Century        .........            9 

II.  Ordsall  Cave  . 

13 

III.  Ordsall  Hall    , 

14 

IV.  The  Search     . 

20 

V.  Chat  Moss 

23 

VI.  The  Disinterment 

32 

VII.  Doctor  Dee      . 

33 

VIII.  The  Magic  Glass 

36 

IX.  The  Prison  on  Salford  Bridge 

^ 

39 

X.  The  Fate  of  the  Pursuivant 

42 

XI.  The  Pilgrimage  to  Saint  Winifred's  Well 

45 

XII.  The  Vision      .... 

51 

XIII.  The  Conspirators 

53 

XIV.  The  Packet     .... 

59 

XV.  The  Elixir      .... 

63 

XVI.  The  Collegiate  Church  at  Manchester 

68 

XVII.  The  Rencounter 

76 

XVIII.  The  Explanation 

77 

XIX.  The  Discovery 

79 

XX.  The  Departure  from 

the  Ha 

1 

82 

BOOK  THE  SECOND, 


THE  DISCOVERY. 


I.  The  Landing  of  the  Powder 

87 

II.  The  Traitor    . 

92 

III.  The  Escape  Prevented 

96 

IV.  The  Mine        .            .            .            . 

99 

V.  The  Capture  of  Viviana 

105 

VI.  The  Cellar      .           .           .         • 

109 

VII.  The  Slar-Chamber     . 

113 

VIII.  The  Jailer's  Daughter 

115 

IX.  The  Counterplot 

123 

X.  White  Webbs 

127 

XI.  The  Marriage  in  the  Forest 

132 

XII.  The  Fifth  of  November 

137 

XIII.  The  Flight  of  the  Conspirators 

141 

XIV.  The  Examination 

HG 

VIU 


CONTENTS, 


BOOK    THE    THIRD. 


THE  CONSPIRATORS. 

Chapter 

I.  How  Guy  Fawkes  was  put  to  the  Torture 
II.  Showing  the  Troubles  of  Viviana  . 

III.  Huddington     ..... 

IV.  Holbeach         ..... 
V.  The  Close  of  the  Rebellion 

VI.  Hagley 

VII.  Viviana's  Last  Night  at  Ordsall  Hall 

VIII.  Hendlip 

IX.  Whitehall 

X.  The  Parting  of  Viviana  and  Humphrey  Chetham 
XI.  The  Subterranean  Dungeon 
XII.  The  Traitor  Betrayed 

XIII.  The  Trial 

XIV.  The  Last  Meeting  of  Fawkes  and  Viviana 
XV.  Saint  Paul's  Churchyard 

XVI.  Old  Palace  Yard        .... 
XVII.  The  Last  Execution 


Page 
151 
157 
160 
167 
169 
174 
178 
182 
187 
189 
190 
192 
195 
197 
199 
201 
203 


GUY    FAWKES. 


BOOK    THE    FIRST. 


CHAPTER    I. 


AN  EXECUTION  IN  MANCHESTER.  AT  THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  SEVENTEENTH 

CENTURY. 


More  than  two  hundred  and  thirty  years 
ago,  or,  to  speak  with  greater  precision,  in 
1604,  at  the  latter  end  of  June,  it  was  ru- 
moured one  morning  in  Manchester  that  two 
seminary  priests,  condemned  at  the  late  as- 
sizes under  the  severe  penal  enactments  then 
in  force  against  the  Papists,  were  about  to 
suffer  death  on  that  day.  Attracted  by  the 
report,  large  crowds  flocked  towards  the  place 
of  execution,  which,  in  order  to  give  greater 
solemnity  to  the  spectacle,  liad  been  fixed  at 
the  southern  gate  of  the  old  collegiate  church. 
Here  a  scaffold  was  erected,  and  near  it  upon 
a  heap  of  bl^izing  coals  smoked  a  large  caul- 
dron filled  with  boiling  pitch,  intended  to  re- 
ceive the  quarters  of  the  miserable  sufferers. 
The  place  was  guarded  by  a  small  band  of 
soldiers,  habited  in  their  full  accoutrements  of 
corslet  and  morion,  and  armed  with  swords, 
half-pikes,  and  calivers.  Upon  the  steps  of 
the  scaffold  stood  a  square-built,  ill-favoured 
personage,  whose  office  it  was  easy  to  divine, 
busied  in  spreading  a  bundle  of  straw  upon 
the  boards.  He  was  dressed  in  a  buff  jerkin, 
and  had  a  long-bladed  knife,  tiirust  into  his 
girdle.  Besides  these  persons,  there  were  two 
pursuivants,  or  state-messengers, — officers  ap- 
pointed by  the  Privy  Council  to  make  search 
throughout  the  provinces  for  recusants,  Popisli 
priests,  and  other  religious  offenders.  They 
were  occupied  at  this  njoinent  in  reading  over 
a  list  of  suspected  persons. 

Neither  the  executioners  nor  his  companions 
appeared  in  the  slightest  degree  impressed  by 
the  horrible  tragedy  about  to  be  enacted,  for 
the  former  whistled  carelessly  as  he  pursued 
])is  task,  while  the  latter  laughed  and  chatted 
with  the  crowd,  or  jestingly  pointed  their 
matchlocks  at  the  jackdaws  wheeling  about 
them  in  the  sunny  air,  or  perching  upon  the 
pinnacles  and  tower  of  the  adjoining  fane. 
Not  so  the  majority  of  the  assemblage.  Most 
of  the  older  and  wealthier  families  in  Lanca- 
shire stiil  continuing  to  adhere  to  the  ancient 
faith  of  their  fathers,  it  will  not  be  wondered 
thiit  many  of  their  dependants  should  follow 
their  example  And,  even  of  those  who  were 
adverse  to  tho  creed  of  Rome,  there  were  few 
B 


who  did  not  murmur  at  the  rigorous  system 
of  persecution  adopted  towards  its  professors. 

At  nine  o'clock,  the  hollow  rolling  of  a 
muffled  drum  was  heard  at  a  distance.  The 
deep  bell  of  the  church  began  to  toll,  and  pre- 
sently afterwards  the  mournful  procession  was 
seen  advancing  from  the  market-place.  It  con- 
sisted of  a  troop  of  mounted  soldiers,  equipped 
in  all  respects  like  those  stationed  at  the  scaf^ 
fold,  with  their  captain  at  their  head,  and  fol- 
lowed by  two  of  their  number  with  hurdles 
attached  to  their  steeds,  on  which  were  tied  the 
unfortunate  victims.  Both  were  young  men — 
both  apparently  prepared  to  meet  their  fate 
with  firmness  and  resignation.  They  had 
been  brought  from  Radcliff  Hall — an  old  moat- 
ed and  fortified  mansion  belonging  to  a 
wealthy  family  of  that  name,  situated  where 
the  close,  called  Pool  Fold,  now  stands,  and 
then  recently  converted  into  a  place  of  security 
for  recusants ;  tiie  two  other  prisons  in  Man- 
chester—  namely,  the  New  Fleet  on  Hunt's 
Bank,  and  the  gaol  on  Salford  Bridge, — not 
being  found  adc<]uate  to  the  accommodation 
of  the  numerous  religious  criminals. 

By  this  time,  the  cavalcade  had  reached  the 
place  of  execution.  The  soldiers  had  driven 
back  the  throng,  and  cleared  a  space  in  front 
of  the  scaffold,  when,  just  as  tlie  cords  that 
bound  the  limbs  of  the  priests  were  unfastened, 
a  woman  in  a  tattered  woollen  robe,  with  a 
hood  drawn  over  her  face,  a  rope  bound  round 
her  waist,  with  bare  feet,  and  having  some- 
what of  the  appearance  of  a  sister  of  Charity, 
spiang  forward,  and  flung  herself  on  her  knees 
beside  them. 

Clasping  the  hem  of  the  garment  of  the 
nearest  priest,  she  pressed  it  to  her  lips,  and 
gazed  earnestly  at  him,  as  if  imploring  a  bless- 
ing. 

"  You  liavc  your  wish,  daughter,"  said  the 
priest,  extending  his  arms  over  her.  "Heaven 
and  Our  Lady  bless  you  I" 

The  woman  then  turned  towards  the  other 
victim,  who  was  audibly  reciting  his  litanies. 

"  Back,  daughter  of  Antichrist !"  interposed 
a  soldier,  rudely  thrusting  her  aside.  "  Don't 
you  sec  you  disturb  his  devotions  ?     He  has 

t9i 


10 


GUY    FAWKES. 


enough  to  do  to  take  care  of  his  own  soul 
without  minding  yours." 

"Take  this,  daughter,"  said  the  priest  who 
had  been  first  addressed,  oficring  her  a  small 
volume,  which  he  took  from  his  vest,  "and  fail 
not  to  retneuiber  in  your  prayers  the  sinful 
soul  of  Robert  VVoodroof,  a  brother  of  the  order 
of  Jesus." 

The  woman  put  out  her  hand  to  take  the 
book,  but  before  it  could  be  delivered  to  her,  it 
was  seized  by  the  soldier. 

"Your  priests  have  seldom  anytliing  to  leave 
behind  them,"  he  cried,  with  a  coarse  laugh, 
"  except  some  worthless  and  superstitious  relic 
of  a  saint  or  martyr.  What's  tliis?  Ah  I  a 
breviary — a  mass-book.  I've  too  much  regard 
for  your  spiritual  welfare  to  allow  you  to  re- 
ceive it,"  he  added,  about  to  place  it  in  his 
doublet. 

"  Give  it  her,"  cried  a  young  man,  snatch- 
ing it  from  him,  and  handing  it  to  the  woman, 
who  instantly  disapi)eared. 

The  soldier  eyed  the  new-comer  as  if  dis- 
posed to  resent  the  interference,  but  a  glance 
at  his  apparel,  which,  though  plain,  and  of  a 
sober  hue,  was  rather  above  the  middle  class, 
as  well  as  a  look  at  the  crowd,  who  were  evi- 
dently  disposed  to  take  part  with  the  young 
man,  induced  him  to  stay  his  hand.  He,  there- 
fore, contented  himself  with  crying,  "A  recu- 
sant !  a  Papist  I" 

"  I  am  neither  recusant  nor  Papist,  knave  !" 
replied  the  other,  sternly  ;  "  and  I  counsel  you 
to  amend  your  manners,  and  show  more  hu- 
manity, or  you  sl;all  find  I  have  interest 
enough  to  procure  your  dismissal  from  a  ser- 
vice which  you  disgrace." 

This  reply  was  Ibllowed  by  a  murmur  of  ap- 
plause from  the  mob. 

"  Who  is  that  bold  speaker?"  demanded  a 
pursuivant  from  one  of  his  attendants. 

"  It  is  Master  Humphrey  Chelham  ofCrump- 
sall,"  was  the  reply,  "  son  to  one  of  the  wealth- 
iest merchants  of  the  town,  and  a  zealous 
upholder  of  the  true  faith." 

"  He  has  a  strange  way  of  showing  his 
zeal,"  rejoined  the  pursuivant,  entering  the 
answer  in  his  note-book.  "  And  who  is  the 
woman  lie  befriended  ?" 

"  She  is  a  half-crazed  being  called  Eliza- 
beth (.»rlon,"  replied  tlie  attendant,  "who  was 
scourged  and  tortured  during  Queen  Eliza- 
beth's reign  for  pretending  to  the  gift  of  pro- 
phecy. She  was  compelled  to  conless  the  im- 
posture she  had  practised  on  the  people,  and 
uttered  her  recantation  within  yonder  church. 
Since  then,  she  has  never  opened  her  lips." 

"Where  is  lier  abode?"  inquired  the  pur- 
suivant. 

"She  lives  in  a  cave  on  the  banks  of  the 
Irweli,  near  Ordsall  Hall,"  replied  the  at- 
tendant, •"  where  she  subsists  on  the  chance 
contributions  of  the  charitable.  But  she  so- 
licits nothing  ;  and,  indeed,  is  seldom  seen." 

"  Her  cave  must  be  searched,"  observed  the 
pursuivant ;  "  it  may  be  the  hiding-place  of  a 
priest.  Father  Campion  was  concealed  in  such 
another,  when  he  so  long  eluded  the  vigilance 
of  the  eomrai8sioncr.s.     We  sliall  pass   it  in 


our  way  to  Ordsall  Hall  to-night,  shall  we 
not  ?" 

"  We  shall,"  answered  the  attendant. 

"  If  we  sur[)rise  Father  Oldcorne,  and  can 
prove  that  Sir  William  Radeliife  and  his 
daughter,  both  of  whom  are  denounced  in  my 
list,  are  harbourers  and  shelterers  of  recusants, 
we  shall  have  done  a  good  night's  work." 

At  this  moment,  an  ofik'cr  advanced,  and 
commanded  the  j)riests  to  Jbllow  him. 

As  Father  Woodroof,  who  was  the  last  to 
mount  the  scaffold,  ascended  the  steps,  he 
looked  round  and  cried  in  a  loud  voice,  "  Good 
people,  I  take  you  all  to  witness  that  I  die  ia 
the  true  Catholic  faith." 

And,  amid  the  deep  silence  that  ensued,  the 
executioner  performed  his  horrible  task. 

The  execution  over,  the  crowd  began  to  se- 
parate slowly,  and  various  opinions  were  ex- 
pressed respecting  the  revolting  and  sanguinary 
spectacle  they  had  just  witnessed.  Many,  who 
condemned — and  the  niiijorily  did  so, — the  ex- 
treme severity  of  the  laws  t)y  which  the  un- 
fortunate priests  had  just  suffered,  uttered  their 
sentiments  with  extreme  caution;  but  there 
were  some  whose  feelings  liad  been  too  much 
excited  for  prudence,  and  who  inveighed  loud- 
ly and  bitterly  against  the  spirit  of  religious 
persecution  then  prevailing  ;  while  a  few  others 
of  an  entirely  opposite  persuasion  looked  upon 
the  rigorous  proceedings  adopted  against  the 
Papi?ts,  and  the  punishment  now  inflicted 
upon  their  priesthood,  as  a  just  retribution  for 
their  own  severities  during  the  reign  of  Mary. 
In  general,  the  common  people  entertained  a 
strong  prejudice  against  the  Catholic  party, — 
for,  as  it  has  been  slirevvdiy  observed,  "  they 
must  ever  have  some  object  to  hate  ;''  but  in 
Manchester,  near  which,  as  has  been  already 
stated,  so  many  old  and  important  families, 
professing  that  religion,  resided,  the  case  was 
widely  different ;  and  the  mass  of  the  in- 
habitants were  favourably  inclined  towards 
them.  It  was  the  knowledge  of  this  feeling 
that  induced  the  commLssioncrs  ai)pointed  to 
superintend  the  execution  of  the  laws  against 
recusants  to  proceed  with  unusuiil  rigour  in 
this  neighbouihood. 

The  state  of  the  Roman  Catljolic  party  at 
the  period  of  this  liistor}',  was  indeed  most 
grievous.  The  hopes  they  had  ii;dulged  of 
greater  toleration  tor  their  religion  on  tlie  ac- 
cession of  J:inies  the  First,  had  bien  entirely 
destroyed.  ']'he  persecutions,  which  had  been 
suspended  during  the  first  year  of  the  reign  of 
the  new  monarch,  were  now  renewed  with 
greater  severity  than  ever;  and  though  their 
present  condition  was  deplorable  enough,  it 
was  feared  that  worse  reniaiiicd  in  store  for 
them.  "  They  bethought  themselves,"  says 
Bishop  Goodman,  "  that  now  their  case  was 
far  worse  than  in  the  time  of  Queen  Eliza- 
beth ;  for  they  did  live  in  some  hope  that  after 
the  old  woman's  liftj  they  might  have  some 
mitigation,  and  even  those  who  did  then  per- 
secute them  were  a  little  more  moderate,  as 
being  doubtful  what  limes  might  succeed,  and 
fearing  their  own  case.  But,  now  that  they 
saw  the  times  settled,  haviug  no  hope  of  better 


GUY    FAWKES. 


11 


days,  bnt  expecting  that  the  uttermost  rig-our 
of  the  law  sliould  be  executed,  they  became 
desperate :  finding  that  by  the  hivvs  of  the 
kingdom  their  own  lives  were  not  secured,  and 
for  the  carrying  over  of  a  priest  into  England 
it  was  no  less  than  high  treason.  A  gentle- 
woman was  hinged  only  for  relieving  and 
harbouring  a  priest;  a  citizen  was  hanged  only 
for  being  reconciled  to  the  Cimrch  of  Rome; 
besides,  the  penal  laws  were  such,  and  so  ex- 
ecuted, that  they  could  not  subsist.  What  was 
usually  sold  in  shops  and  usually  bought,  this 
the  pursuivant  would  take  away  from  them  as 
being  po()ish  and  superstitious.  One  knight 
did  affirm  that  in  one  term  he  gave  twenty 
nobles  in  rewards  to  tiie  door-keeper  of  the 
Attorney-General ;  another  did  affirm,  that  his 
third  part  which  remained  unto  him  of  his 
estate  did  hardly  serve  for  his  expense  in  law 
to  defend  him  from  other  oppressions;  besides 
their  children  to  be  taken  from  home,  to  be 
brought  up  in  another  religion.  So  they  did 
every  way  conclude  that  their  estate  was 
desperate ;  they  could  die  but  once,  and  their 
religion  was  more  precious  unto  them  than 
their  lives.  They  did  further  consider  their 
misery;  how  the}'  were  debarred  in  any  course 
of  lives  to  help  themselves.  They  could  not 
practise  law, — they  could  not  be  citizens, — 
they  could  have  no  office  ;  they  could  not  breed 
up  their  sons — none  did  desire  to  match  with 
thern ;  they  had  neither  fit  marriages  for  their 
daughters,  nor  nunneries  to  put  them  into ;  for 
those  few  which  are  beyond  seas  are  not  con- 
siderable in  respect  of  the  number  of  recu- 
sants, and  none  can  be  admitted  into  them 
without  great  sums  of  money,  which  the}', 
being  exhausted,  could  not  supply.  The  Spi- 
ritual ('ourt  did  not  cease  to  molest  them,  to 
excommunicate  them,  then  to  imprison  them  ; 
and  thereby  they  were  utterly  disenabled  to 
sue  for  their  own."  Such  is  a  faithful  picture 
of  the  state  of  the  Catholic  party  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  reign  of  .Tames  the  First. 

Pressed  down  by  these  intolerable  grievances, 
is  it  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  Papists  should 
repine, — or  that  some  among  their  number, 
when  all  other  means  failed,  should  seek  re- 
dress by  darker  measures  ?  By  a  statute  of 
Elizabeth,  all  those  who  refused  to  conform 
with  the  established  religion  were  subjected  to 
a  fine  of  twenty  pounds  a  hin:ir  month  ;  and 
this  heavy  penalty,  which  had  been  remitted, 
or  rather  suspended,  since  James  came  to  the 
throne,  was  again  exacted,  and  all  arrears 
claimed.  Added  to  this,  tiie  monarch,  whose 
court  was  thronged  by  a  host  of  needy  Scottish 
retainers,  assigned  to  them  a  certain  number 
of  wealthy  recusants,  and  empowered  them  to 
levy  the  fines, — a  privilege  of  which  tiiey  were 
not  slow  to  avail  themselves.  There  were 
other  pains  and  penalties  [)rovided  for  by  the 
same  statute,  which  were  rigorously  inflicted. 
The  withdrawing,  or  seeking  to  withdraw 
another  from  the  established  rcligiim  was  ac- 
counted  high  treason,  and  punished  accord- 
ingly; licaring  mass  involved  a  penaltv  of  one 
hundred  marks  and  a  year's  inipri'^onmcnt ; 
and  the  harbouring  of  a  priest,  under  the  de- 


nomination of  a  tutor,  rendered  the  latter  liable 
to  a  year's  imprisonment,  and  his  employer  to 
a  fine  of  ten  pounds  a-month.  Impressed  with 
the  belief  that,  in  consequence  of  the  unre- 
mitting persecutions  which  the  Catholics  un- 
derwent in  Elizabeth's  time,  the  religion  would 
be  wholly  extirpated.  Dr.  Allen,  a  Lancashire 
divine,  who  afterward's  received  a  cardinal's 
hat,  founded  a  college  at  Douay,  for  the  recep- 
tion and  education  of  those  who  intended  to 
take  orders.  From  this  university  a  number 
of  missionary  priests,  or  seminarists,  as  they 
were  termed,  were  annually  sent  over  to  Eng- 
land, and  it  was  against  these  persons,  who 
submitted  to  every  hardship  and  privation,  to 
danger,  and  death  itself,  for  the  welfare  of  their 
religion,  and  in  the  hope  of  propagating  its 
doctrines,  that  the  utmost  rigour  of  the  penal 
enactments  was  directed.  Among  the  num- 
ber of  seminarists  dispatched  from  Douay,  and 
capitally  convicted  under  the  statute  above- 
mentioned,  were  the  two  priests  whose  execu- 
tion has  just  been  described. 

As  a  portion  of  the  crowd  passed  over  the 
old  bridge  across  the  Irwell  connecting  Man- 
chester with  Salford,  on  which  stood  an  ancient 
chapel  erected  by  Thomas  de  Booth,  in  the 
reign  of  Edward  the  Third,  and  recently  con- 
verted into  a  prison  for  recusants,  they  per- 
ceived the  prophetess,  Elizabeth  Orton,  seated 
upon  the  stone  steps  of  the  structure,  earnestly 
reading  the  book  given  to  her  by  Father 
VVoodroof.  A  mob  speedily  collected  round 
her  ;  but,  unconscious  seemingly  of  their  pre- 
sence, the  poor  woman  turned  over  leaf  after 
leaf,  and  pursued  her  meditations.  Her  hood 
was  thrown  back,  and  discovered  her  bare  and 
withered  neck,  over  which  her  black  dislievelled 
hair  streamed  in  thick  masses.  Irritated  by 
her  indifference,  several  of  the  by-standers,  who 
had  questioned  her  as  to  the  nature  of  her 
studies,  began  to  mock  and  jeer  her,  and  en- 
deavoured by  plucking  her  robe,  and  casting 
little  'pebbles  at  her,  to  attract  her  attention. 
Roused,  at  length,  by  these  annoyances,  she 
arose,  and  fixing  her  large  black  eyes  me- 
nacingly upon  them,  was  about  to  stalk  away, 
when  they  surrounded  and  detained  her. 

"  Speak  to  us,  Bess,"  cried  several  voices. 
"  Prophesy, — prophesy." 

"  I  will  speak  to  you,"  replied  the  poor 
woman,  shaking  her  hand  at  them,  "  I  will 
prophesy  to  you.  And  mark  me,  though  ye 
believe  me  not,  my  words  shall  not  fall  to  the 
ground." 

"  A  miracle !  a  miracle  !"  shouted  the  by- 
standers. "  Bess  Orton,  who  has  been  silent 
for  twenty  years,  has  found  her  tongue  at  last." 

"  I  have  seen  a  vision,  and  dreamed  a  dream," 
continued  the  prophetess.  "  As  I  lay  in  my 
cell  last  night,  meditating  upon  the  forlorn 
state  of  our  church  and  of  its  people,  me- 
thought  that  nineteen  shadowy  figures  stood 
before  me — ay,  nineteen — for  I  counted  them 
over  thrice — and  when  I  questioned  them  as 
to  their  coming,  for  my  tongue  at  first  clove  to 
the  roof  of  my  mouth,  and  my  li(is  refused 
their  office,  one  of  them  answered  me  in  a 
voice  which  yet  rings  in  my  ears,  '  We  are 


12 


GUY    FAWKES. 


the  chosen  deliverers  of  our  fallen  and  per- 
secuted church.  To  us  is  intrusted  the  re- 
buildingr  of  her  temples,  —  to  our  hands  is 
committed  the  destruction  of  her  enemies. 
The  work  will  be  done  in  darkness  and  in 
secret, — with  toil  and  travail,  but  it  will  at 
length  be  made  manifest ;  and  when  the  hour 
is  arrived,  our  vengeance  will  be  terrible  and 
exterminating.'  With  these  words,  they  van- 
ished  from  my  sight.  Ah  !"  she  exclaimed, 
suddenly  starting,  and  passing  her  hand  across 
her  brow,  as  if  to  clear  her  sight,  "  it  was  no 
dream — no  vision.     I  see  one  of  them  now." 

"Where? — where?"  cried  several  voices. 

The  prophetess  answered  by  extending  her 
skinny  arm  towards  some  object  immediately 
before  her. 

All  eyes  were  instantly  turned  in  the  di- 
rection which  she  pointed,  when  they  beheld 
the  figure  of  a  soldier — for  such  his  gaib  pro- 
claimed him — standing  at  a  few  paces'  dis- 
tance from  them.  He  was  wrapped  in  an 
ample  cloak,  and  his  broad-leaved  steeple- 
crowned  Spanish  hat,  decorated  with  a  single 
green  feather,  pulled  over  his  brows,  seemed, 
like  his  accoutrements,  which  ditFered  in  some 
respects  from  those  of  the  troopers  previously 
described,  to  denote  that  he  belonged  to  that 
service.  He  wore  a  polished  steel  brigandine, 
trunk  loose,  and  buff  boots  drawn  up  to  the 
knees.  His  arms  consisted  of  a  brace  of  pe- 
tronels  thrust  into  his  belt,  from  which  a  long 
rapier  depended.  His  features  were  dark  as 
bronze,  and  well-formed,  though  strongly  mark- 
ed, and  wearing  an  expression  of  settled  stern- 
ness. His  eyes  were  grey  and  penetrating, 
and  shaded  by  thick  beetle-brows ;  and  his 
physiognomy  was  completed  by  a  black  peak- 
ed beard.  His  person  was  tall  and  erect,  and 
Jiis  deportment  soldier-like  and  commanding. 
Perceiving  that  he  was  become  an  object  of 
notice,  the  stranger  cast  a  compassionate  look 
at  the  prophetess,  who  still  remained  gazing 
fixedly  at  him,  and  throwing  her  a  few  pieces 
of  money,  strode  away. 

Watching  his  retreating  figure  till  it  disap- 
peared from  view,  the  crazed  woman  tossed  her 
arms  wildly  in  the  air,  and  cried,  in  a  voice  of 
exultation,  "  Did  I  not  speak  the  truth  ? — did 
I  not  tell  you  I  had  seen  him  ?  He  is  the  de- 
liverer of  our  church,  and  is  come  to  avenge 
the  righteous  blood  which  liath  been  this  day 
shed." 

"  Peace,  woman,  and  fly  while  there  is  yet 
time,"  cried  the  young  man  who  was  de- 
signated as  Humphrey  Chetham.  "  The  pur- 
suivant and  his  officers  are  in  search  of  you." 

"Then  they  shall  not  need  go  far  to  find 
me,"  replied  the  prophetess.  "  I  will  tell  them 
what  I  told  this  mob,  that  the  day  of  bloody 
retribution  is  at  iiand, — that  the  avenger  is  ar- 
rived. I  have  seen  him  twice, — once  in  my 
cave,  and  once  again  here, — even  where  you 
stand." 

"  If  you  do  not  keep  silence  and  fly,  my  poor 
creature,"  rejoined  Humphrey  Chetham,  "you 
will  have  to  endure  what  you  sufl'ered  years 
ago,  stripes,  and  perhaps  torture.  Be  warned 
by  me — oh  1  it  is  too  late.    He  is  approaching." 


"  Let  him  come,"  replied  Elizabeth  Orton," 
"  I  am  ready  for  him." 

"  Can  none  of  you  force  her  away  ?"  cried 
Humphrey  Chetham,  appealing  to  the  crowd  ; 
"  I  will  reward  you." 

"  I  will  not  stir  from  this  spot,"  rejoined  the 
prophetess,  obstinately  :  "  I  will  testily  to  the 
truth." 

The  kind-hearted  merchant,  finding  any 
further  attempt  to  preserve  her  fruitless,  drew 
aside. 

By  this  time,  the  pursuivant  and  his  myrmi- 
dons had  come  up. 

"  Seize  her  I"  cried  the  former,  "  and  let 
her  be  placed  within  this  prison  till  I  have  re- 
ported her  to  the  commissioners.  If  you  will 
confess  to  me,  woman,"  he  added,  in  a  whisper 
to  her,  "  that  you  have  harboured  a  priest,  and 
will  guide  us  to  his  hiding-place,  you  shall  be 
set  free." 

"  I  know  of  no  priests  but  those  you  have 
murthered,"  returned  the  prophetess,  in  a  loud 
voice,  "  but  I  will  tell  you  something  that  you 
wot  not  of.  The  avenger  of  blood  is  at  hand. 
I  have  seen  him.  All  here  have  seen  him. 
And  you  shall  see  him  ;  but  not  now — not 
now." 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  raving  ?"  de- 
manded the  pursuivant. 

"  You  had  better  pay  no  heed  to  her  talk, 
master  pursuivant,"  interposed  Humphrey 
Chetham  ;  "  she  is  a  poor  crazed  being,  who 
knows  not  what  she  says.  I  will  be  surety  for 
her  inoffensive  conduct." 

"  You  must  give  surety  for  yourself.  Master 
Chetham,"  replied  the  officer.  "  I  have  just 
learnt  that  you  were  last  night  at  Ordsall  Hall, 
the  seat  of  that  '  dangerous  temporiser,' — for 
such  he  is  designated  in  my  warrant, — Sir 
William  Radcliffe  ;  and  if  report  speaks  truly, 
you  are  not  altogether  insensible  to  the  charms 
of  his  fair  daughter.  Mistress  Viviana." 

"  What  is  this  to  thee,  thou  malapert  knave?" 
cried  Humphrey  Chetham,  reddening  partly 
from  anger,  partly,  it  might  be,  from  another 
emotion. 

"  Much,  as  you  shall  presently  find,  goo"d 
Master  Wolf-in-sheep's-clothing,"  retorted  the 
pursuivant,  "  if  you  prove  not  a  rank  Papist  at 
heart,  then  do  1  not  know  a  true  man  from  a 
false." 

This  angry  conference  was  cut  short  by  a 
piercing  scream  from  the  prophetess.  Break- 
ing from  the  grasp  of  her  captors,  who  were 
about  to  force  her  into  the  prison,  she  sprang 
with  a  single  bound  upon  the  parapet  of  the 
bridge,  and  utterly  regardless  of  her  dangerous 
position,  turned,  and  iiiced  the  officers,  who 
were  struck  mute  with  astonishment. 

"  Tremble  I"  she  cried  in  a  loud  voice, — 
"tremble,  ye  evil-doers  I  Ye  who  have  de- 
spoiled the  house  of  God, — have  broken  his 
altars, — scattered  his  incense, — slain  his  priests. 
Tremble,  I  say.  The  avenger  is  arrived.  The 
bolt  is  in  his  hand.  It  shall  strike  king,  lords, 
commons, — all !  These  are  my  last  words, — 
take  them  to  heart." 

"Drag  her  oft!"  cried  the  pursuivant,  ao- 
grily. 


GUY    FAWKES. 


13 


"  Use  care — use  genlleness,  if  ye  are  men!" 
cried  Humphrey  Chetliam. 

"  Think  not  you  can  detain  me  !"  cried  the 
prophetess.     "  Avaunt,  and  tremble  I" 

So  saying,  she  flung  herself  from  the  parapet. 

The  height  from  which  she  fell  was  about 
fifty  feet.  The  water  was  dashed  into  the  air 
Jike  jets  from  a  fountain  by  the  weight  and 
force  of  the  descending  body.  The  waves  in- 
stantly closed  over  her ;  but  she  rose  to  the 
surface  of  the  stream;  about  twenty  yards  be- 
low the  bridge. 

"She  may  yet  be  saved,"  cried  Humphrey 
Chetham,  who  with  the  by-standers  had  hur- 
ried to  the  side  of  the  bridge. 

"  You  will  only  preserve  her  for  the  gal- 
lows," observed  the  pursuivant. 

"  Your  malice  shall  not  prevent  my  making 


the  attempt,"  replied  the  young  merchant- 
"  Ha  !  assistance  is  at  hand." 

This  exclamation  was  occasioned  by  the 
sudden  appearance  of  the  soldier  in  the  Spanish 
dress,  who  rushed  towards  the  left  bank  of  the 
river,  which  was  here,  as  elsewhere,  formed 
of  red  sandstone  rock,  and  following  the  course 
of  the  current,  awaited  the  next  appearance  of 
the  drowning  woman.  This  did  not  occur  till 
she  had  been  carried  a  considerable  distance 
down  the  stream,  when  the  soldier,  swiftly  di- 
vesting himself  of  his  cloak,  plunged  into  the 
water,  and  dragged  her  ashore. 

"  Follow  me,"  cried  the  pursuivant  to  his 
attendants.     "  I  will  not  lose  my  prey.". 

But  before  he  gained  the  bank  of  the  river 
the  soldier  and  his  charge  had  disappeared,  nor 
could  he  detect  any  traces  of  them. 


CHAPTER    II. 
ORDSALL  CAVE. 


After  rescuing  the  unfortunate  prophetess 
from  a  watery  grave  in  the  manner  just  re- 
lated, the  soldier  snatched  up  his  cloak,  and, 
taking  his  dripping  burthen  in  his  arms,  hur- 
ried swiftly  along  the  bank  of  the  river,  until 
he  came  to  a  large  cleft  in  the  rock,  into  which 
he  crept,  taking  his  charge  with  him,  and  thus 
eluded  observation.  In  this  retreat  he  con- 
tinued upwards  of  two  hours,  during  which 
time  the  poor  creature,  to  whom  he  paid  every 
attention  that  circumstances  would  admit,  had 
so  far  recovered  as  to  be  able  to  speak.  But 
it  was  evident  the  shock  had  been  too  much 
for  her,  and  that  she  was  sinking  fast.  She 
was  so  faint  that  she  could  scarcely  move  ;  but 
she  expressed  a  strong  desire  to  reach  her  cell 
before  she  breathed  her  last.  Having  described 
its  situation  as  accurately  as  she  could  to  the 
soldier,  who  before  he  ventured  forth  peeped 
out  to  ascertain  that  no  one  was  on  tlie  watch 
— he  again  raised  her  in  his  arms,  and  by  her 
direction  struck  into  a  narrow  lane  skirting 
the  bank  of  the  river.  Pursuing  this  road  for 
about  half  a  mile,  he  arrived  at  the  foot  of  a 
small  eminence,  covered  by  a  clump  of  mag- 
nificent beecli-trees,  and  still  acting  under  the 
guidance  of  the  dying  woman,  whose  voice 
grew  more  feeble  each  instant,  he  mounted  this 
knoll,  and  from  its  summit  took  a  rapid  sur- 
vey of  the  surrounding  country.  On  the  op- 
posite bank  of  the  river  stood  an  old  hall,  while 
further  on,  at  some  distance,  he  could  perceive 
through  the  trees  the  gables  and  chimneys  of 
another  ancient  mansion. 

"Raise  me  up,"  said  Elizabeth  Orton,  as  he 
lingered  on  this  spot  for  a  moment.  "  In  that 
old  house,  which  you  see  yonder,  Hulme  Hall, 
I  was  born.  I  would  willingly  take  one  look 
at  it  before  I  die." 

"  And  the  other  hall  which  I  discern  through 
the  trees  is  Ordsall,  is  it  not  ?"  inquired  l^e 
soldier. 


"  It  is,"  replied  the  prophetess.  "  And  now 
let  us  make  what  haste  we  can.  We  have  not 
far  to  go ;  and  I  feel  I  shall  not  last  long." 

Descending  the  eminence,  and  again  enter- 
ing the  lane,  which  here  made  a  turn,  the 
soldier  approached  a  grassy  space,  walled  in  on 
either  side  by  steep  sandstone  rocks.  Proceed- 
ing to  the  further  extremity  of  this  enclosure, 
after  a  moment's  search,  by  the  direction  of 
his  companion,  he  found,  artfully  concealed  by 
overhanging  brushwood,  the  mouth  of  a  srnall 
cave.  Creeping  inlo  the  excavation,  he  found 
it  about  six  feet  high,  and  of  considerable 
depth.  The  roof  was  ornamented  with  Runic 
characters  and  other  grotesque  and  half-effaced 
inscriptions,  while  the  sides  of  the  rock  were 
embellished  witli  Gothic  tracery,  amid  which 
the  letters  I.  H.  S.,  carved  in  ancient  church 
text,  could  be  easily  distinguished.  Tradition 
assigned  the  cell  to  the  priests  of  Odin,  but  it 
was  evident  that  worshippers  at  other  and 
holier  altars  had  more  recently  made  it  their 
retreat.  Its  present  occupant  had  furnished  it 
with  a  straw  pallet  and  a  small  wooden  cruci- 
fix fixed  in  a  recess  in  the  wall.  Gently  depo- 
siting her  upon  the  pallet,  the  soldier  took  a 
seat  beside  her  on  a  stone  slab  at  the  foot  of 
the  bed.  He  next,  at  her  request,  as  the  cave 
was  rendered  almost  wholly  dark  by  the'^Kgr- 
hanging  trees,  struck  a  light,  and  set  fire  ta?^i> 
candle  placed  within  a  lantern.  After  a  few 
moments  passed  in  prayer,  the  recluse  begged 
him  to  give  her  the  crucifix  that  she  might 
clasp  it  to  her  breast.  This  done,  she  became 
more  composed,  and  prepared  herself  to  meet 
her  end.  Suddenly,  as  if  something  had  again 
disturbed  her,  she  passed  her  hand  once  or 
twice  rapidly  across  her  face,  and  then,  as  with 
a  dying  effort,  started  up,  and  stretched  out 
her  hands. 

"  I  see  him  before  them  !"  she  cried.  "  They 
examine  him, — they  adjudge  him  !     Ah !  he  is 


14 


GUY    FAWKES. 


now  in  a  dungeon  !  See,  the  torturers  advance  ! 
He  is  placed  on  the  rack — once — twice  they 
apply  the  engine  !  Mercy  !  he  confesses  !  He 
is  led  to  execution.  I  see  him  ascend  the 
Bcaffold  !" 

"Whom  do  you  behold?"  inquired  the  soldier. 

"  His  face  is  hidden  from  me,"  replied  the 
prophetess  ;  "  but  his  figure  is  not  unlike  your 
own.  Ha!  I  hear  the  executioner  pronounce 
his  name.     How  are  you  called  ?" 


"  Guy  Fawkes,"  replied  the  soldier. 

"  It  is  the  name  1  heard,"  rejoined  Eliza 
beth  Orton. 

And,  sinking  backwards,  she  expired. 

Guy  Fawkes  gazed  at  her  some  time  till  ha 
felt  assured  that  the  last  spark  of  life  had 
fled.  He  then  turned  away,  and  placing  his 
hand  upon  his  chin,  was  buried  in  deep  reflec- 
tion. 


CHAPTER    III. 


ORDSALL  HALL. 


Soon  after  sunset,  on  the  evening  of  the 
events  previously  related,  llie  inmates  of  Ord- 
sall  Hall  were  disturbed  and  alarmed  (for  in 
those  times  of  trouble  any  casual  disturbance 
at  night  was  sufficient  to  occasion  alarm  to  a 
Catholic  family)  by  a  loud  clamour  for  admit- 
tance from  some  one  stationed  at  the  farther 
side  of  the  moat,  then,  as  now,  surrounding 
that  ancient  manorial  residence.  The  draw- 
bridge being  raised,  no  apprehension  was  en- 
tertained of  an  attempt  at  tbrciblc  entrance  on 
the  part  of  the  intruder,  who,  so  fiir  as  he  could 
be  discerned  in  the  deepening  twilight,  ren- 
dered yet  more  obscure  by  the  shade  of  tlie 
trees  under  which  he  stood,  appeared  to  be  a 
Bolitary  horseman.  Still,  tor  fear  of  a  surprise, 
it  was  judged  prudent  by  tliose  inside  the  hall 
to  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  tlie  summons  ;  nor  was  it 
until  it  had  been  more  than  once  repeated  in  a 
peremptory  tone  that  any  attention  was  paid 
to  it.  The  outer  gate  was  then  cautiously 
opened  by  an  old  steward,  and  a  couple  of 
serving-men,  armed  with  pikes  and  swords, 
who  demanded  the  stranger's  business,  and 
•were  answered  that  he  desired  to  speak  with 
Sir  William  RadclifFe.  Tlie  steward  rejoined 
that  his  master  was  not  at  home,  having  set 
out  the  day  before  for  Chester ;  but  that  even 
if  he  were,  he  would  take  upon  himself  to 
affirm  that  no  audience  would  be  given,  on  any 
pretence  whatever,  to  a  stranger  at  such  an 
unseasonable  hour.  To  this  the  other  replied, 
in  a  haughty  and  commanding  voice,  that  he 
was  neither  a  stranger  to  Sir  William  Rad- 
clifFe, nor  ignorant  of  the  necessity  of  caution, 
though  in  this  instance  it  was  altogether  super- 
fluous ;  and,  as  notwithstanding  the  steward's 
assertion  to  the  contrary,  he  was  fully  per- 
suaded his  master  was  at  home,  he  insisted 
upon  being  conducted  to  liim  without  further 
parley,  as  his  business  would  not  brook  delay. 
In  vain,  the  steward  declared  he  had  spoken 
the  truth.  The  stranger  evidently  disbelieved 
him ;  but,  as  he  could  obtain  no  more  satis- 
factory answer  to  his  interrogations,  he  sud- 
denly shifted  his  ground,  and  inquired  whether 
Sir  William's  daughter.  Mistress  Viviana,  was 
likewise  absent  from  home. 

"  Before  I  repl.y  to  that  question,  I  must 
know  by  whom  and  wherefore  it  is  put?"  re- 
turned the  steward,  evasively. 


"  Trouble  not  yourself  further,  friend,  but 
deliver  this  letter  to  her,"  rejoined  the  horse- 
man, flinging  a  packet  across  the  moat.  "It 
is  addressed  to  her  father,  but  there  is  no  rea- 
son why  she  should  not  be  acquainted  with  its 
contents." 

"Take  it  up,  Olin  Birtwissel,"  said  the 
steward,  eying  the  packet  which  had  fallen  at 
his  feet  suspiciously, — "  take  it  up,  I  say,  and 
hold  it  to  the  light,  that  I  may  consider  it  well 
before  I  carry  it  to  our  young  mistress.  I 
have  heard  of  strange  treacheries  practised  by 
such  means,  and  care  not  to  meddle  with  it" 

"  Neither  do  I,  good  Master  Heydocke,"  re- 
plied Birtwissel.  "  I  would  not  touch  it  for  a 
twelvemonth's  wages.  It  may  burst,  and  spoil 
my  good  looks,  and  so  ruin  my  fortunes  with 
the  damsels.  But  here  is  Jeff"  Gellibronde, 
who  having  no  beauty  to  lose,  and  being, 
moreover,  afraid  of  nothing,  will  pick  it  up  for 
you." 

"  Speak  for  yourself,  Olin,"  rejoined  Gelli- 
bronde, in  a  surly  tone.  "  I  have  no  more 
fancy  for  a  shattered  limb,  or  a  scorched  face, 
than  my  neighbours." 

"  Dolts  I"  cried  the  stranger,  who  had  listen- 
ed to  these  observations  with  angry  impatience, 
"  if  vou  will  not  convey  my  packet,  which  has 
nothing  more  dangerous  about  it  than  an  or- 
dinary letter,  to  your  mistress,  at  least  acquaint 
her  that  Mr.  Robert  Catesby,  of  Ashby  St 
Legers,  is  without,  and  craves  an  instant's 
speech  with  her." 

"  Mr.  Catesby  I"  exclaimed  the  steward,  in 
astonishment  "If  it  be  indeed  your  worship, 
why  did  you  not  declare  yourself  at  once  ?" 

"  I  may  have  as  good  reason  for  caution  as 
yourself.  Master  Heydocke,"  returned  Catesby, 
laughing. 

"True,"  rejoined  the  steward;  "but,  me- 
thinks,  it  is  somewhat  strange  to  find  your 
worship  here,  when  I  am  aware  that  my  mas- 
ter expected  to  meet  you,  and  certain  other 
honourable  gentlemen  that  you  wot  of,  at  a 
place  in  a  clean  opposite  direction, — Holywell, 
in  Flintshire." 

"  The  cause  of  my  presence,  since  you  de- 
sire to  be  certified  of  the  matter,  is  simply 
this,"  replied  Catesby,  urging  his  steed  to- 
wards the  edge  of  the  moat,  while  the  steward 
advanced  to  meet  Jiinfi  on  tlie  opposite  bank. 


J 


GUY    FAWKES. 


15 


so  that  a  few  yards  only  lay  between  them  ; 
"  I  came  round  by  Manchester,"  he  continued 
in  a  lower  tone,  "  to  see  if  any  assistance  could 
be  rendered  to  the  unfortunate  fathers  Wood- 
roof  and  Forshawe ;  but  found  on  my  arrival 
this  morning  that  I  was  too  late,  as  they  had 
just  been  put  to  death." 

"  Heaven  have  mercy  on  their  souls  !"  eja- 
culated Heydocke,  shuddering,  and  crossing- 
himself.  "  Your's  was  a  pious  mission,  Mr. 
Catesby.     Would  it  had  been  availing  I" 

"  I  would  so,  too,  with  all  my  soul !"  re- 
joined the  other,  fervently  ;  "  but  fate  ordained 
it  otherwise.  While  I  was  in  the  town  I  ac- 
cidentally learnt  from  one,  who  informed  me  he 
had  just  parted  with  him,  that  your  master 
was  at  home ;  and,  fearing  he  might  not  be 
able  to  attend  the  meeting  at  Holywell,  I  re- 
solved to  proceed  thither  at  nightfall,  when  my 
visit  wa-  not  likely  to  be  observed  ;  having  mo- 
tives which  you  may  readily  conjecture,  for 
preserving  the  strictest  secresy  on  the  occa- 
sion. Tlie  letter  was  prepared  in  case  I  should 
fail  in  meeting  with  him.  And  now  that  I 
have  satisfied  your  scruples,  good  master 
steward,  if  Sir  William  be  really  within,  I 
pray  you  lead  me  to  him  forthwith.  If  not, 
your  young  mistress  must  serve  my  turn,  for  I 
have  that  to  say  which  it  imports  one  or  other 
of  them  to  know." 

"  In  regard  to  my  master,"  replied  the 
steward,  "he  departed  yesterday  for  Chester, 
on  his  way  to  join  the  pilgrimage  to  St.  Wini- 
fred's Well,  as  I  have  already  assured  your 
worship.  And  whoever  informed  you  to  the 
contrary,  spoke  falsely.  But  I  will  convey 
your  letter  and  message  to  my  young  mistress, 
and  on  learning  her  pleasure  as  to  receiving 
you,  will  instantly  return,  and  report  it.  These 
are  dangerous  times.  A  good  Catholic  knows 
not  whom  to  trust,  there  are  so  many  spoilers 
abroad." 

"  How,  sirrah  !"  cried  Catesby,  angrily;  "  do 
you  apply  that  observation  to  me  ?" 

"  Far  be  it  from  me,"  answered  Heydocke, 
respectfully,  "to  apply  any  observation  that 
may  sound  offensive  to  your  worship,  whom  I 
know  to  be  a  most  worthy  gentleman,  and  as 
free  from  heresy,  as  any  in  the  kingdom.  I 
was  merely  endeavouring  to  account  for  what 
may  appear  my  over-caution  in  detaining  you 
where  you  are,  till  I  learn  my  lady's  wishes. 
It  is  a  rule  in  this  house  not  to  lower  the  draw- 
bridge without  orders  after  sunset ;  and  I  dare 
not,  for  my  place,  disobey  it.  Young  Master 
Humphrey  Chetham,  of  Crumpsall,  was  de- 
tained in  the  like  manner  no  later  than  last 
night ;  and  he  is  a  visiter,"  he  added,  in  a  sig- 
niticant  tone,  "  who  is  not  altoerther  unwel- 
come to  my  mistress — ahem  !  But  duty  is  no 
respecter  of  persons  ;  and  in  my  master's  ab- 
sence my  duty  is  to  protect  his  household. 
Your  worship  will  pardon  me." 

"  I  will  pardon  anything  but  your  loquacity 
and  tediousness,"  rejoined  Catesby, impatiently, 
"  About  your  errand  quickly." 

"  I  am  gone,  your  worsliip,"  returned  the 
eteward,  disappearing  with  his  companions. 

Throwing  the  bridle  over  his  horse's  neck, 


and  allowing  him  to  drink  his  fill  from  the 
water  of  the  moat,  and  afterwards  to  pluck  a 
few  mouthfuls  of  the  long  grass  that  fringed 
its  brink,  Catesby  abandoned  himself  to  reflec- 
tion. In  a  few  moments,  as  the  steward  did 
not  return,  he  raised  his  eyes,  and  fixed  them 
upon  the  ancient  habitation  before  him, — 
ancient,  indeed,  it  was  not  at  this  time,  having 
been  in  a  great  measure  rebuilt  by  its  posses- 
sor, Sir  William  Radcliffe,  during  the  latter 
part  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  in  the  rich  and 
picturesque  style  of  that  period.  Little  could 
be  distinguished  of  its  projecting  and  retiring 
wings,  its  walls  decorated  with  black  and  white 
chequer-work,  the  characteristic  of  the  class 
of  architecture  to  which  it  belonged,  or  of  its 
magnificent  embayed  windows  filled  with 
stained  glass;  but  the  outline  of  its  heavy  roof, 
with  its  numerous  gables,  and  groups  of  tall 
and  elaborately-ornamented  chimneys,  might 
be  distinctly  traced  in  strong  relief  against  the 
warm  and  still-glowing  western  sky.    . 

Though  much  gone  to  decay,  grievously 
neglected,  and  divided  into  three  separate 
dwelling-houses,  Ordsall  Hall  still  retains  much 
of  its  original  character  and  beauty,  and  view- 
ed at  the  magic  hour  above  described,  when 
the  changes  which  years  have  produced  can- 
not be  detected,  it  presents  much  the  same 
striking  appearance  that  it  offered  to  the  gaze 
of  Catesby.  Situated  on  the  north  bank  of  the 
Irwell,  which  supplies  the  moat  with  a  con- 
stant  stream  of  fresh  water,  it  commands  on 
the  south-west  a  beautiful  view  of  the  winding 
course  of  the  river,  here  almost  forming  an 
island,  of  TrafTord  Park  and  its  hall,  of  the 
woody  uplands  beyond  it,  and  of  tlie  distant 
hills  of  Cheshire.  The  mansion  itself  is  3ii> 
irregular  quadrangle,  covering  a  considerable 
tract  of  ground.  The  gardens,  once  exqui- 
sitely laid  out  in  the  formal  taste  of  Elizabeth's 
days,  are  also  enclosed  by  the  moat,  which 
surrounds  (except  in  the  intervals  where  it  is 
filled  up,)  a  space  of  some  acres  in  extent.  At 
the  period  of  this  history,  it  was  approached 
on  the  north-east  by  a  noble  avenue  of  syca- 
mores, leading  to  within  a  short  distance  of  its 
gates. 

As  Catesby  surveyed  this  stately  structure, 
and  pondered  upon  the  wealth  and  power  of  its 
owner,  his  meditation  thus  found  vent  in 
words  : — "  If  I  could  but  link  Radclifl^e  to  our 
cause,  or  win  the  hand  of  his  fair  daughter,  and 
so  bind  him  to  me,  the  great  attempt  could  not 
fail.  She  has  refused  nie  once.  No  matter. — 
I  will  persevere  till  she  yields.  With  Father 
Oldcorne  to  back  my  suit,  I  am  assured  of  suc- 
cess. She  is  necessary  to  my  purpose,  and 
shall  be  mine." 

Descended  from  an  ancient  Northampton- 
shire family,  and  numbering  among  his  an- 
cestry the  well-known  minister  of  the  same 
name,  who  flourished  in  the  reign  of  Richard 
the  Third,  Robert  Catesby — at  this  time  about 
forty, — had  in  his  youth  led  a  wild  and  dis- 
solute life  ;  and  though  bred  in  the  faith  of 
Rome,  he  had  for  some  years  abandoned  its 
worship.  In  1580,  wlien  the  Jesuits,  Campion 
and  Parsons,  visited  England,  he  was  recon< 


16 


GUY    FAWKES. 


ciled  to  the  church  he  had  quitted,  and  thence- 
forth  became  as  zealous  a  supporter  and  pro- 
moter of  its  doctrines  as  he  had  heretofore  been 
their  bitter  opponent.  He  was  now  actively 
engaged  in  all  the  Popish  plots  of  the  period, 
and  was  even  supposed  to  be  connected  with 
those  designs  of  a  darker  dye  which  were  set 
on  foot  for  Elizabeth's  destruction, — with  Sotn- 
erville's  conspiracy, — with  that  of  Arden  and 
Throckmorton, — the  latter  of  whom  was  his 
uncle  on  the  niaternal  side, — with  the  plots  of 
Bury  and  Savage, —  of  Ballard, —  and  of  Bab- 
ington.  After  the  execution  of  the  unfortunate 
Queen  of  Scots,  he  devoted  himself  to  what 
was  termed  the  Spanish  faction,  and  endeav- 
oured to  carry  out  the  schemes  of  a  party,  who, 
distrusting  the  vague  promises  of  James,  were 
anxious  to  secure  the  succession  to  a  Catholic, 
— the  Infanta  of  Spain,  or  the  Duke  of  Parma. 
On  the  insurrection  of  the  Earl  of  Essex,  he 
took  part  with  that  ill-fated  nobleman,  and, 
thougii  he  escaped  condign  punishment  for  the 
otfencc,  he  was  imprisoned  and  heavily  fined. 

From  this  time  his  career  ran  in  darker 
channels.  "  Hunger-starved  for  innovation," 
as  he  is  finely  described  by  Camden, — imbued 
with  the  fiercest  religious  fanaticism,  —  elo- 
quent, wily,  resolute, — able  alike  to  delude  the 
powerful  and  intimidate  the  weak, —  he  pos- 
sessed all  the  ingredients  of  a  conspirator.  As-  ; 
sociating  with  men  like  himself,  of  desperate 
character  and  broken  fortunes,  he  was  ever  on 
the  look-out  for  some  means  of  retrieving  his 
own  condition,  and  redressing  the  wrongs  of 
his  church.  Well  informed  of  the  actual  state 
of  James's  sentiments,  when,  on  that  monarch's 
accession,  confident  hopes  were  entertained  by 
the  Romanists  of  greater  toleration  for  their 
religion,  Catcsby  was  the  first  to  point  out  their 
mistake,  and  to  foretell  the  season  of  terrible 
persecution  that  was  at  hand.  It  was  on  this 
persecution  that  he  grounded  his  hopes — hopes 
never  realized,  for  the  sufferers,  amid  all  the 
grievances  they  endured,  remained  constant  in 
their  fidelity  to  the  throne — of  creating  a  gene- 
ral rebellion  among  the  Catholics. 

Disappointed  in  this  expectation,  —  disap- 
pointed, also,  in  his  hopes  of  Spain,  of  France, 
and  of  aid  from  Rome,  he  fell  back  upon  him- 
self, and  resolved  upon  the  execution  of  a  dark 
and  dreadful  project  which  he  had  long  con- 
ceived, and  which  he  could  execute  almost 
single-handed,  without  aid  from  foreign  pow- 
ers, and  without  the  co-operation  of  his  own 
party.  The  nature  of  this  project,  which,  if  it 
succeeded,  would,  he  imagined,  accomplish  all 
or  more  than  his  wildest  dreams  of  ambition 
or  fanaticism  had  ever  conceived,  it  will  be  the 
business  of  this  history  to  develope.  Without 
going  further  into  detail  at  present,  it  may  be 
mentioned  that  the  success  of  the  plot  depend- 
ed so  entirely  on  its  sccresy,  and  so  well  aware 
was  its  contriver  of  the  extraordinary  system 
of  espionage  carried  on  by  the  Earl  of  Salis- 
bury and  the  Privy  Council,  that  for  some  time 
he  scarcely  dared  to  trust  it  out  of  his  own 
keeping.  At  length,  after  much  deliberation, 
he  communicated  it  to  five  others,  all  of  whom 


were  bound  to  silence  by  an  oath  of  unusual 
solemnity  ;  and  as  it  was  necessary  to  the  com- 
plete success  of  the  conspiracy  that  its  outbreak 
should  be  instantaneously  followed  by  a  rise  on 
the  part  of  the  Catholics,  he  darkly  hinted  that 
a  plan  was  on  foot  for  their  deliverance  from 
the  yoke  of  their  oppressors,  and  counselled 
them  to  hold  themselves  in  readiness  to  tly  to 
arms  at  a  moment's  notice.  But  here  again  he 
failed.  Few  were  disposed  to  listen  to  him; 
and  of  those  who  did,  the  majority  returned  for 
answer,  "  that  their  part  was  endurance,  and 
that  the  only  arms  which  Christians  could  use 
against  lawful  powers  in  their  severity  were 
prayers  and  tears." 

Among  the  Popish  party  of  that  period,  as  in 
our  own  time,  were  ranked  many  of  the  oldest 
and  most  illustrious  families  in  the  kingdom, 
— families  not  less  remarkable  for  their  zeal  for 
religion,  than,  as  has  been  before  observed,  for 
their  loyalty;  —  a  loyalty  afterwards  approved 
in  the  disa.-^trous  reign  of  James  the  Second, 
by  their  firm  adherence  to  what  they  consid- 
ered the  indefeasible  right  of  inheritance.  Plots, 
indeed,  were  constantly  hatched  throughout  the 
reigns  of  Elizabeth  and  James  by  persons  pro- 
fessing the  religion  of  Rome.  But  in  these  the 
mass  of  the  Catholics  had  no  share.  And  even 
in  the  seasons  of  the  bitterest  persecution,  when 
every  fresh  act  of  treason,  perpetrated  by  some 
lawless  and  disaffected  individual,  was  visited 
with  additional  rigour  on  their  heads, — when 
the  scaffold  reeked  with  their  blood,  and  the 
stake  smoked  with  their  ashes,  —  when  their 
quarters  were  blackening  on  the  gates  and 
market  crosses  of  every  city  in  the  realm, — 
when  their  hearths  were  invaded,  their  religion 
proscribed,  and  the  very  name  of  Papist  had 
become  a  by-word, — even  in  those  terrible  sea- 
sons, as  in  the  season  under  considerstion,  they 
remained  constant  in  their  fidelity  to  the  crown. 

From  the  troubled  elements  at  work  some 
fierce  and  turbulent  spirits  were  sure  to  arise, 
—  some  gloomy  fanatics  who,  having  brooded 
over  tiieir  wrongs,  real  or  imaginary,  till  they 
had  lost  all  scruples  of  conscience,  hesitated  at 
no  means  of  procuring  redress.  But  it  would 
be  unjust  to  hold  up  such  persons  as  represent- 
atives of  the  whole  body  of  Catholics.  Among 
the  conspirators  themselves  there  were  redeem- 
ing shades.  All  were  not  actuated  by  the  same 
atrocious  motives.  Mixed  feelings  induced 
Catesby  to  adopt  the  measure.  Not  so  Guy 
Fawkes,  who  had  already  been  leagued  with 
the  design.  One  idea  alone  ruled  him.  A  sol- 
dier of  fortune,  but  a  stern  religious  enthusiast, 
he  supposed  himself  chosen  by  Heaven  for  the 
redemption  of  his  church,  and  cared  not  what 
happened  to  himself,  provided  he  accomplished 
his  (as  he  conceived)  holy  design. 

In  considering  the  causes  which  produced 
the  conspiracy  about  to  be  related,  and  in  sepa- 
rating the  disaffected  party  of  the  Papists  from 
the  temperate,  due  weight  must  be  given  to  the 
influence  of  the  priesthood.  Of  the  Romish 
clergy  there  were  two  classes  —  the  secular 
priests,  and  the  Jesuits  and  missionaries. 
While  tlie  former,  like  the  more  moderate  of 


GUY    FAWKES. 


17 


the  laity,  would  have  been  wcll-contcntcd  with 
toleration  tor  their  religion,  the  latter  breathed 
nothing  but  revenge,  and  desired  the  utter  sub- 
version ot"  tlie  existing  government, — temporal 
as  well  as  ecclesiaslic.il.  Men,  for  the  most 
part,  of  high  intellectual  powers,  of  untiring 
energy,  and  unconquerable  fortitude,  they  were 
enabled  by  their  zeal  and  ability  to  make  many 
proselytes.  By  their  nie:ins,  secret  correspond- 
ence was  carried  on  with  the  different  ct)urts 
of  Europe;  and  they  were  not  without  hope 
that,  taking  advantage  of  some  favourable 
crisis,  they  should  yet  restore  their  church  to 
its  fbrjner  supremacy.  To  these  persons, — 
who  held  as  a  maxim,  "  Qui  ndirrionein  Catho- 
licam  deserit  regnandi  jus  ninne  amisit" — 
Catesby  and  his  associates  proved  ready  and 
devoted  agents.  Through  their  instrumental- 
ity, they  hoped  to  accomplish  the  great  work 
of  their  restoration.  To  Father  Gurnet,  the 
provincial  of  the  English  Jesuits,  of  whom  it 
will  be  necessary  to  speak  more  fully  hereafter, 
the  plot  had  been  revealed  by  Catesby  under 
tlie  seal  of  confession  ;  and,  though  it  subse- 
quently became  a  question  whether  he  was 
justified  in  withholding  a  secret  of  such  im- 
portance to  the  state,  it  is  sufficient  for  the  pre- 
sent purpose  to  say  that  he  did  withhold  it. 
For  the  treasonable  practices  of  the  Jesuits  and 
their  faction  some  palliation  may  perhaps  be 
found  in  the  unrelenting  persecution  to  which 
they  were  subjected  ;  but  if  any  excuse  can  be 
admitted  for  tliem,  what  opinion  must  be  formed 
of  the  conduct  of  their  temperate  brethren  ? 
Surely,  while  the  one  is  condemned,  admira- 
tion may  be  mingled  with  the  sympathy  which 
must  be  felt  for  the  unmerited  sufferings  of  the 
other  I   ^ 

From  the  foregoing  statement,  it  will  be 
readily  inferred  that  Sir  William  RadclifTe,  a 
devout  Catholic,  and  a  man  of  large  posses- 
sions, though  somewhat  reduced  by  the  heavy 
fines  imposed  upon  him  as  a  recusant,  must 
have  appeared  as  an  object  of  importance  to 
the  conspirators;  nor  will  it  be  wondered  at, 
that  every  means  was  used  to  gain  him  to  their 
cause.  Acting,  however,  upon  the  principles 
that  swayed  the  well-disposed  of  his  party,  the 
knight  resisted  all  these  overtures,  and  rofiised 
to  take  any  share  in  proceedings  from  which 
his  conscience  and  loyalty  alike  revolted.  Baf- 
fled, but  not  defeated,  Catesby  returned  to  the 
charge  on  a  new  point  of  assault.  Himself  a 
widower,  he  solicited  the  hand  of  the  lovely 
Viviana  Radclilfe,  Sir  William's  only  child, 
and  the  sole  heiress  of  his  possessions.  But 
liis  suit  in  this  quarter  was,  also,  unsuccessful. 
The  knight  rejected  the  proposal,  alleging  that 
his  daughter  had  no  inclination  to  any  alliance, 
inasmuch  as  she  entertained  serious  thoughts 
of  vowing  herself  to  Heaven.  Thus  foiled, 
Catesby  ostensibly  relinquished  his  design. 

Shortly  before  the  couMnenceiTient  of  this 
history,  a  pilgrimage  to  St.  Winifred's  Well, 
in  Flintshire,  was  undertaken  by  Father  Gar- 
net, the  provincial  of  the  Jesuits  before  men- 
tioned, in  company  with  several  distinguished 
Catholic  personages  of  both  sexes,  and  to  this 
ceremonial  Sir  William  and  his  daughter  were 
2»  C 


urgently  bidden.  The  invitation  was  declined 
on  the  part  of  Viviana,  but  accepted  by  the 
knight,  who,  though  unwilling  to  leave  home 
at  a  period  of  so  much  danger,  or  to  commit 
the  care  of  his  daughter  to  any  charge  but  his 
own,  even  for  so  short  a  space,  felt  it  to  be  his 
duty  to  give  countenance  by  his  presence  to  the 
ceremonial. 

Accordingly,  he  had  departed  for  Chester  on 
the  previous  day,  as  stated  by  the  steward. 
And,  though  Catesby  professed  ignorance  on 
the  subject,  and  even  affirmed  that  he  had 
heard  to  the  contrary,  it  may  be  doubted 
whether  he  was  not  secretly  informed  of  the 
circumstance,  and  whether  his  arrival,  at  this 
particular  conjuncture,  was  not  preconcerted. 

Thus  much  in  explanation  of  what  is  to  fol- 
low.— The  course  of  ('atesby's  reflections  was 
cut  short  by  tiie  return  of  the  steward,  who, 
informing  him  that  he  had  his  mistress's  com- 
mands to  admit  him,  immediately  lowered  the 
drawbridge  for  that  purpose.  Dismounting, 
and  committing  his  steed  to  one  of  the  serving- 
men,  who  advanced  to  take  it,  Catesby  follow- 
ed his  conductor  through  a  stone  gateway,  and 
crossing  the  garden,  was  ushered  into  a  spacious 
and  lofty  hall,  furnished  with  a  long  massy 
oak  table,  at  the  upper  end  of  which  was  a 
raised  dais.  At  one  side  of  the  chamber 
yawned  a  huge  arched  fire-place,  garnished 
with  enormous  andirons,  on  which  smouldered 
a  fire  composed  of  mixed  turf  and  wood.  Above 
the  chimney-piece  hung  a  suit  of  chain-armour, 
with  the  battle-axe,  helmet,  and  gauntlets  of 
Sir  John  Radcliffe,  the  first  possessor  of  Ord- 
sall,  who  flourished  in  the  reign  of  Edward 
the  First:  on  the  right,  masking  the  entrance, 
stood  a  magnificent  screen  of  carved  oak. 

Traversing  this  hall,  Heydocke  led  the  way 
to  another  large  apartment,  and  placing  lights 
on  a  gothic-shaped  table,  offered  a  seat  to  the 
new  comer,  and  departed.  The  room  in  which 
Catesby  was  lefl  was  termed  the  star-chamber 
— a  name  retained  to  this  day — from  the  cir- 
cumstance of  its  ceiling  being  moulded  and 
painted  to  resemble  the  heavenly  vault  when 
studded  with  the  luminaries  of  night.  It  was 
terminated  by  a  deeply-embayed  window  filled 
with  stained  glass  of  tlie  most  gorgeous  colours; 
now,  however,  concealed  from  view  by  the  rich 
curtains  drawn  before  it.  The  walls,  in  some 
places,  were  hung  with  arras,  in  others,  wains- 
coted with  dark,  lustrous  oak,  embellished 
with  scrolls,  cyphers,  and  fanciful  designs. 
The  mantel-piece  was  of  the  same  solid  ma- 
terial, curiously  carved,  and  of  extraordinary 
size.  It  was  adorned  with  the  armorial  bear- 
ings of  the  family — two  bends  engrailed,  and 
in  chief  a  label  of  three, —  and  other  devices 
and  inscriptions.  The  hearth  was  considerably 
raised  above  the  level  of  the  floor,  and  there 
was  a  peculiarity  in  the  construction  of  the 
massive  wooden  pillars  flankinjr  it,  that  at- 
tracted the  attention  of  Catesby,  who  rose  with 
the  intention  of  examining  them  more  nar- 
rowly, when  he  was  interrupted  by  the  entrance 
of  the  lady  of  the  mansion. 

Advancing  at  a  slow  and  dignified  pace, 
Viviana  Radclitfo  courteously  but  gravely  sa- 


18 


GUY    FAWKES. 


luted  her  guest,  and,  without  offering  him  her 
hand,  motioned  him  to  a  ciiair,  while  she  seat- 
ed  herself  at  a  little  distance.  Catesby  had 
seen  her  twice  before  ;  and  whether  the  cir- 
cumstances under  which  they  now  met  might 
have  caused  some  change  in  licr  demeanour  lie 
could  not  tell,  but  he  thought  her  singularly 
altered.  A  year  ago,  she  had  been  a  lively, 
laughing  girl  of  seventeen,  with  a  bright  brown 
skin,  dark  tlovving  tresses,  and  eyes  as  black 
and  radiant  as  those  of  a  gipsy.  She  was  now 
a  grave,  collected  woman,  infinitely  more  beau- 
tiful, but  wholly  changed  in  character.  Her 
complexion  had  become  a  clear,  transparent 
white,  and  setoff  to  great  advantage  her  large, 
luminous  eyes,  and  jetty  brows,  fler  figure 
was  tall  and  majestic ;  her  features  regular, 
delicately  formed,  and  of  the  rarest  and  proudest 
class  of  beauty.  She  was  attired  in  a  dress  of 
black  wrought  velvet,  entirely  without  orna- 
ment except  the  rosary  at  her  girdle,  with  a 
small  ebony  crucifix  attached  to  it.  She  wore 
a  close-fitting  cap,  likewise  of  black  velvet, 
edged  with  pearls,  beneath  which  her  raven 
tresses  were  gathered  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
display  most  becomingly  the  smooth  and 
snowy  expanse  of  her  marble  forehead.  The 
gravity  of  her  manner,  not  less  than  lier  charms 
of  person,  seemed  to  have  struck  Catesby  mute. 
He  gazed  on  her  in  silent  admiration  for  a 
brief  space,  utterly  forgetful  of  the  object  of 
his  visit,  and  the  part  he  intended  to  play. 
During  this  pause,  she  maintained  the  most 
perfect  composure,  and  fixing  her  dark  eyes 
full  upon  him,  appeared  to  await  the  moment 
when  lie  might  choose  to  open  the  conversa- 
tion. 

Notwithstanding  his  age,  and  the  dissolute 
and  distracted  life  he  had  led,  Catesby  was 
still  good-looking  enough  to  have  produced  a 
favourable  impression  upon  any  woman  easily 
captivated  by  manly  beauty.  The  very  ex- 
pression of  his  marked  and  peculiar  physiog- 
nomy,— in  some  degree  an  index  to  his  cha- 
racter,— was  sutficient  to  rivet  attention  ;  and 
the  mysterious  interest  generally  inspired  by 
his  presence  was  not  diminished  on  further 
acquaintance  with  him.  Though  somewhat 
stern  in  tlieir  expression,  his  leatures  were 
strikingly  handsome,  cust  in  an  oval  mould, 
and  clothed  with  tiie  pointed  beard  and  mus- 
taches invariably  met  with  in  the  portraits  of 
Vandyck.  His  frame  was  strongly  built,  but 
well  proportioned,  and  seeuied  capable  of  en- 
during the  greatest  fatigue.  His  dress  was 
that  of  an  ordinary  gentleman  of  the  period, 
and  consisted  of  a  doublet  of  quilted  silk,  of 
sober  colour  and  stout  texture  ;  large  trunk- 
hose  swelling  out  at  the  hips;  and  buff  boots, 
armed  with  spurs  with  immense  rowels.  He 
wore  a  deep  and  stifHy-starched  ruff  round  his 
throat;  and  his  apparel  was  completed  by  a 
short  cloak  of  brown  cloth,  lined  with  silk  of  a 
similar  colour.  His  arms  were  rapier  and 
poniard,  and  his  high-crowned  plumed  hat,  of 
the  peculiar  firm  then  in  vogue,  and  looped  on 
the  "  leer-side"  with  a  diamond  clasp,  was 
thrown  upon  the  table. 

Some    little    time   having  elapsed,   during 


which  he  made  no  effort  to  address  her,  Vi- 
viana  broke  silence. 

"  I  understood  that  you  desired  to  speak 
with  me  on  a  matter  of  urgency,  Mr.  Catesby," 
she  remarked. 

"  I  did  so,"  he  replied,  as  if  aroused  from  a 
reverie ;  "  and  I  can  only  excuse  my  absence 
of  mind  and  ill  manners,  on  the  plea  tliat  the 
contemplation  of  your  charms  lias  driven  all 
other  matter  out  of  my  head." 

"  Mr.  Catesby,"  returned  Viviana,  rising, 
"if  the  purpose  of  your  visit  be  merely  to  pay 
unmerited  compliments,  I  must  at  once  put  an 
end  to  it." 

"  1  have  only  obeyed  the  impulse  of  my 
heart,"  resumed  the  other,  passionately,  "  and 
uttered  what  involuntarily  rose  to  my  lips. 
But,"  he  added,  cheeking  himself,  "  I  will  not 
offend  you  with  my  admiration.  If  you  have 
read  my  letter  to  your  fatlier,  you  will  not  re- 
quire to  be  informed  of  the  object  of  my  visit." 

"  I  have  not  read  it,"  replied  Viviana,  re- 
turning him  the  packet  with  the  seal  unbroken. 
"  I  can  give  no  opinion  on  any  matter  of  diffi- 
culty. And  I  have  no  desire  to  know  any 
secret  with  which  my  father  might  not  desire 
me  to  be  acquainted." 

"Are  we  overheard?"  inquired  Catesby, 
glancing  suspiciously  at  the  fire-place. 

"  By  no  one  whom  you  Would  care  to  over- 
hear us,"  returned  the  maiden. 

"  Then  it  is  as  I  supposed,"  rejoined  Cates- 
by. "  Father  Oldcorne  is  concealed  behind 
that  mantel-piece  .'" 

Viviana  smiled  an  affirmative. 

"  Let  him  come  forth,  I  pray  you.  Miss  Rad- 
cliffe,"  returned  Catesby.  "  What  I  have  to 
say  concerns  him  as  much  as  yourself  or  your 
father;  and  I  would  gladly  have  his  voice  in 
the  matter." 

"  You  shall  have  it,  my  son,"  replied  a  re- 
verend personage,  clad  in  a  priestly  garb,  step- 
ping from  out  one  side  of  the  mantel-piece, 
which  flew  suddenly  open,  disclosing  a  recess 
curiously  contrived  in  tlie  thickness  of  the 
wall.  "  You  shall  have  if,"  said  Father  Old- 
corne," for  he  it  was,  approaching  and  extend- 
ing his  arms  over  him.  "  Accept  my  blessing 
and  my  welcome." 

Catesby  received  the  benediction  with  bowed 
head  and  bended  knee. 

"  And  now,"  continued  the  priest,  "  what 
has  the  bravest  soldier  of  our  church  to  declare 
to  its  lowliest  servant  ?" 

Catesby  then  briefly  explained,  as  he  had  be- 
fore done  to  the  steward,  why  he  had  taken 
Manchester  in  his  route  to  North  Wales;  and, 
after  lamenting  his  inability  to  render  any  as- 
sistance to  the  unfortunate  priests,  he  went  on 
to  state  that  he  had  accidentally  learnt,  from  a 
few  words  let  fall  by  the  pursuivant  to  his  at- 
tendant, that  a  warrant  had  been  sent  by  the 
Earl  of  Salisbury  for  Sir  William  Radeliffe'a 
arrest. 

"  My  father's  arrest  I"  exclaimed  Viviana, 
trembling  violently.  "  What — what  is  laid  to 
his  charge  ?" 

"  Felony,"  rejoined  Catesby,  sternly — "  felo- 
!  ny,  without    benefit   of  clergy — for  so   it   is 


GUY    FAVVKES. 


19 


accounted  by  the  present  execrable  laws  of  our 
land,  in  liarbouring  a  Jesuit.  Ifhe  is  convict- 
ed ofthe  otTunce,  his  punisliment  will  be  deatli 
— death  on  the  gibbet,  accompanied  by  indig- 
nities worse  than  those  sliown  to  a  common 
felon." 

"  Holy  Virgin !"  ejaculated  Father  Oldcorne, 
lifting  up  liis  hands,  and  raising  his  eyes  to 
heaven. 

"  From  what  I  gathered,  the  officers  will 
visit  this  house  to-night,"  continued  Cutesby. 

"  Our  ludy  be  praised,  they  will  not  find 
him  !"  cried  Viviana,  who  had  been  thrown 
into  an  agony  of  distress.  "  What  is  to  be 
done  in  this  frightful  emergency,  holy  fatlier  ?" 
she  added,  turning  to  the  priest,  willi  a  suppli- 
cating look. 

"  Heaven  only  knows,  dear  daughter,"  re- 
plied Oldcorne.  "  You  had  better  appeal  for 
counsel  to  one  who  is  more  able  to  affijrd  it 
than  I  am, — Mr.  Catesby.  Well  aware  of  the 
crafty  devices  of  our  enemies,  and  having  often 
eluded  tlieir  snares  himself,  he  may  enable  you 
to  elude  them.  My  own  course  is  clear.  I 
siiall  quit  this  roof  at  once,  deeply  and  bitterly 
regretting  that  by  entering  it,  I  have  placed 
tiiose  whom  I  hold  so  dear,  and  from  whom  I 
liave  experienced  so  much  kindness,  in  sucli 
fearful  jeopardy."     - 

"  Oh,  no,  father  !"  exclaimed  Viviana,  "you 
shall  not  go." 

"  Daughter,"  replied  Oldcorne,  solemnly,  "  I 
have  long  borne  tlie  cross  of  Christ, — have  long 
endured  the  stripes,  inflicted  upon  me  by  the 
adversaries  of  our  faith,  in  patience;  and  my 
last  actions  and  last  breath  shall  testify  to  the 
truth  of  our  holy  religion.  But,  though  I  could 
endure  aught  on  my  own  account,  I  cannot 
endure  to  bring  misery  and  destruction  upon 
others.  Hinder  me  not,  dear  daughter:  1  will 
go  at  once." 

"  Hold,  father !"  interposed  Catesb}'.  "  The 
step  you  are  about  to  take  may  bring  about 
what  you  are  most  anxious  to  avoid.  If  you 
are  discovered  and  apprehended  in  this  neigh- 
bourhood, suspicion  will  still  alt.ich  to  your 
protectors,  and  the  inquisitors  will  wring  the 
secret  of  your  departuie  from  sonic  of  the  do- 
mestics. Tarry  where  you  are.  Let  the  pur- 
suivant make  his  search.  I  will  engage  to 
baffle  his  vigilance." 

"  He  speaks  t!ie  truth,  dear  father,"  returned 
Viviana.  "  You  must  not — shall  not  dep^irt. 
There  are  plenty  of  hiding-places,  as  you  know, 
witiiin  the  mansion.  Let  them  be  as  rigorous 
as  they  niny  in  their  search,  they  will  not  dis- 
cover you." 

"  Whiilever  course  you  adjudge  best  for  the 
security  of  others  I  will  pursue,"  rejoined  Old- 
corne, turning  to  Catesby.  "  Put  me  out  of 
the  question." 

"  My  opinion  has  already  been  given,  fa- 
ther," replied  Catesby.  "Remain  where  you 
are." 

"  But,  if  the  officers  should  ascertain  that  my 
father  is  at  Chester,  and  pursue  hitn  thither?" 
cried  Viviana,  as  if  suddenly  struck  by  a  new 
cause  of  alarm. 

"A   messenger  must  be   immediately   des- 


patched after  him  to  give  him  warning,"  re- 
turned Catesby. 

"  Will  you  be  that  messenger  ?"  asked  the 
maiden,  eagerly. 

"  I  would  shed  my  heart's  best  blood  to  plea- 
sure you,"  returned  Catesby. 

"Then  I  may  count  upon  this  service,  for 
which,  rest  assured,  I  will  not  prove  ungrate- 
ful," she  rejoined. 

"  You  may,"  answered  Catesby.  "  And  yet 
I  would,  on  Father  Oldcorne's  account,  that 
my  departure  might  be  delayed  till  to-mor- 
row." 

"The  delay  might  be  fatal,"  cried  Viviana- 
"You  must  be  in  Chester  before  that  time." 

"  Doubt  it  not,"  returned  Catesby.  "  Charged 
with  your  wishes,  the  wind  siiall  scarcely  out- 
strip my  speed." 

So  saying,  he  marched  irresolutely  towards 
the  door,  as  if  about  to  depart,  when,  just  as 
he  reached  it,  he  turned  sharply  round,  and 
threw  himself  at  Viviana's  feet. 

"  Forgive  me.  Miss  RadcliiTe,"  he  cried,  "  if 
I  once  again,  even  at  a  critical  moment  like 
the  present,  dare  to  renew  my  suit.  I  fancied 
I  had  subdued  my  passion  for  you,  but  your 
presence  has  awakened  it  with  greater  violence 
than  ever." 

"  Rise,  sir,  I  pray,"  rejoined  the  maiden,  in 
an  offended  tone. 

"  Hear  me,  I  beseech  you,"  continued  Cates- 
by, seizing  her  hand.  "  Before  you  reject  my 
suit,  consider  well  that  in  these  perilous  sea- 
sons, when  no  true  Catholic  can  call  his  life 
his  own,  you  may  need  a  protector." 

"  In  the  event  you  describe,  Mr.  Catesby," 
answered  Viviana,  "  I  would  at  once  fulfil  the 
intention  I  have  formed  of  devoting  myself  to 
Heaven,  and  retire  to  the  convent  of  Bene- 
dictine nuns,  founded  by  Lady  Mary  Percy,  at 
Brussels." 

"  You  would  much  more  effectually  serve 
the  cuuse  of  your  religion  by  acceding  to  my 
suit,"  observed  Catesby,  rising. 
"How  so?"  she  inquired. 
"  Listen  to  me.  Miss  Radcliffi^"  he  rejoined, 
gravely,  "  and  let  my  words  be  de(>ply  im- 
pressed upon  your  heart.  Li  your  hands  rests 
the  destiny  of  the  Catholic  Church." 
"  In  mine  !"  excliiinied  Viviana. 
"In  yours,"  returned  C.iteshy.  "  A  mighty 
blow  is  about  to  be  struck  for  her  diliverance." 
"Ay,  marry,  is  it,"  cried  Oldcorne,  with 
sudden  fervour.  "Redemption  draweth  nigh; 
the  yiNir  of  visitation  apiiroiichcth  to  an  end; 
and  jul)ilation  is  at  hand.  England  shall  again 
be  called  a  happy  realm,  a  blessed  ceuntry,  a 
religious  people.  Those  who  knew  the  former 
glory  of  religion  shall  lift  up  their  hands  (or 
j  y  to  see  it  returned  again.  Righteousness 
shall  |)rosper,  and  infidelity  be  plucked  up  by 
the  root.  False  error  shall  vanish  like  smoke, 
and  they  which  saw  it  shall  say  wlicre  is  it 
become  ?  The  daughters  of  Babylon  shall  be 
cast  down,  and  in  the  dust  lament  their  ruin- 
Proud  heresy  shall  .strike  her  sail,  and  groan 
as  a  beast  crushed  und(;r  a  cart-wheel.  The 
memory  of  novelties  slial!  perish  with  a  crack, 
and  as  a  ruinous  house  falling  to  the  ground. 


20 


GUY   FAWKES. 


Repent,  ye  seducers,  with  speed,  and  prevent 
tlie  drcadtul  vviatli  of  the  Poweriible.  He  will 
Come  as  llariie  that  bnriieth  out  beyond  tlie 
furnace.  His  fury  shall  Hy  forth  as  thunder, 
and  pilch  upon  their  to])S  that  malign  him. 
'I'hey  shiill  ()crish  in  his  fury,  and  melt  like 
wax  belbre  tlie  fire." 

"  Amen  1''  ejaculated  Catesby,  as  the  priest 
concluded.  "  You  have  spoken  proplietically, 
father.'" 

"  I  have  but  recited  a  prayer  transmitted  to 
me  by  Father  Gurnet,"  rejoined  Oldcorne. 

"  Do  you  discern  any  hidden  meaning  in  its 
words  ?"  demanded  Catesby. 

"  I  do  my  son,"  returned  the  priest.  "  In 
the  '/oise  error  which  shall  vavish  like  smoke,' 
—  in  the  *  house  which  shall  perish  with  a 
CRACK,' — and  in  the  ''fury  winch  shall  fly  forth 
as  TMu.NDKR,' — I  read  the  mode  by  which  the 
great  work  shall  be  brought  about." 

"  And  you  applaud  tlie  design  ?"  asked 
Catesby,  eagerly. 

"  Non  vera  factum  probo,  sed  evevtum  amo," 
rejoined  the  priest. 

"  The  secret  is  safe  in  your  keeping,  father?" 
said  Catesby,  uneasily. 

"  As  if  it  had  been  disclosed  to  me  in  private 
confession,"  replied  Oldcorne. 

"  Hum  !"  muttered  Catesby.  "  Confessions 
of  as  much  consequence  to  the  state  have  ere 
now  been  revealed,  father." 

"  His  holiness,  Clement  VIII,  hath  passed  a 
decree,  forbidding  all  such  revelations,"  replied 
Oldcorne.  "  And  the  question  has  been  re- 
cently propounded  bj'  a  learned  brotlier  of  our 
order.  Father  Antonio  Delrio,  who,  in  his 
Magical  Disquisitions,  pultelh  it  thus  : — 'Sup- 
posing a  malefactor  shall  confess  (hat  he  him- 
self or  some  other  has  laid  Gunpowder,  or  the 
like  combustible  matter,  under  a  building — '  " 
■  "  Ha  I"  exclaimed  Catesby,  starting. 

" — 'And,  unless  it  be  taken  away,"  pro- 
ceeded the  priest,  regarding  him  fixedly,  'the 
whole  house  will  be  burnt,  the  prince  destroyed, 
and  as  many  as  go  into  or  out  of  the  city  will 
come  to  great  mischief  or  peril  I'  "* 

"  Weil !"  exclaimed  Catesby. 

"  The   point    now   arises,"    continued   Old- 

*  Confitptiir  iiiiilcficiis  sp  vcl  aliiim  posuisse  pul- 
vcrem  vt'l  (piid  aliud  sub  tali  limine,  et  nisi  mllatitiir 
domiim  cnnibiircnilnm,  principfin  intprituriiin,  qnot- 
quot  nrlicm  Oirrcilientiirqut'  in  inafinani  pcrniciiiii 
ant  pcritnlnni  vriitiiros.— Ullrio.  Visg.  Mag.,  lib. 
vi,  cap.  i.  lEdit.  ICOO.] 


corne,  "  whether  the  priest  may  make  use  of 
the  secret  thus  obtained  for  the  good  of  the  go- 
vernment, and  the  averting  of  such  danger; 
and,  alter  fully  discussing  it.  Father  Delrio  de- 
cides  in  the  negative." 

"  Enough,"  observed  Catesby. 

"  By  whom  is  the  blow  to  be  struck?"  asked 
Viviana,  who  had  listened  to  the  foregoing  dis- 
course in  silent  wonder. 

"  By  me,"  answered  Catesby.  "  It  is  for  you 
to  nerve  my  arm." 

"  You  speak  in  riddles,"  she  returned.  "  I 
understand  you  not." 

"  Question  Father  Oldcorne  then,  as  to  my 
meaning,"  rejoined  Catesby  ;  "  he  will  tell  you 
tiiat,  allied  to  you,  I  could  not  fail  in  the  en- 
terprise on  which  I  am  enj,'.iged." 

"  It  is  the  truth,  dear  daughter,"  Oldcorne 
asseverated. 

"  I  will  not  inquire  further  into  this  mys- 
tery," returned  Viviana,  "  for  such  it  is  to  me. 
But,  believing  what  yon  both  assert,  I  answer, 
that  willingly  as  I  would  lay  down  my  life  for 
the  welfare  of  our  holy  religion,  persuading 
myself,  as  I  do,  that  I  have  constancy  enough 
to  endure  martyrdom  for  its  sake, — I  cannot 
do  tills.  Nay,  if  I  must  avouch  tiic  whole 
truth,"  she  continued,  blushing  deeply,  "  my 
affections  are  already  engaged, — though  to  one 
with  whom  I  can  never  fiope  to  be  united." 

"  You  have  your  answer,  my  son,"  observed 
the  priest. 

"  I  have,"  replied  Catesby,  with  a  look  of 
the  deepest  mortifiotion  and  disappointment. 
"  Miss  Radclitfe,  I  now  depait  to  obey  your 
behests." 

"Commend  me  in  all  duty  to  my  dear  fa- 
ther," replied  Viviana,  "  and  believe  tiiat  I 
shall  for  ever  feel  bound  to  you  for  your  zeal." 

"Neglect  not  all  due  caution,  father,"  said 
Catesby,  glancing  significantly  at  Oldcorne. 
"  '  Forewarned,  forearmed.'  " 

"  Doubt  me  not,  my  son,"  rejoined  the  Jesuit. 
"  My  prayers  shall  be  for  you. 

fientom  auferto  perfidam 
f'rt'dcntiuni  de  finibus  ; 
Ut  Christo  laiides  debitas 
Persolvamus  alacriter." 

After  receiving  a  parting  benediction  from 
the  priest,  Catesby  took  his  leave.  His  steed 
was  speedily  brought  to  the  door  by  an  attend- 
ant ;  and  mounting  him,  he  crossed  the  draw- 
bridge, which  was  immediately  raised  behind 
him,  and  hastened  on  his  journey. 


CHAPTER  IV. 
THE  SEARCH. 


Imaiediatki.y  after  Catesby 's  departure,  Hey- 
docke  was  summoned  to  his  mistress's  pre- 
sence. He  found  her  with  the  priest,  and  was 
informed  that  in  all  probability  the  house 
would  be  visited  that  night  by  the  messengers 
of  the  Privy  Council.     The   old  steward  re- 


ceived the  intelligence  as  he  might  have  done 
his  death-warrant,  and  looked  so  bewildered 
and  affrighted,  that  Viviana  half  repented 
having  acquainted  him  with  it. 

"Compose  yourself,  Master  Heydock,"  she 
said,  trying  to  reason  him  out  of  his  fears ; 


GUY    FAWKES. 


21 


"the  search  may  not  take  place.  And  if  it 
does,  there  is  noll)ing  to  be  alarmed  at.  I  am 
not  afraid,  you  perceive." 

"  Notliir.jr  to  be  alarmed  at,  my  dear  young 
lady  I"  gasped  tiie  steward.  "  You  have  never 
witnessed  a  midnight  search  for  a  priest  by 
these  ruffianly  officers,  as  I  have,  or  you  would 
not  say  sa  Fatiier  Oldcornc  will  comprehend 
my  uneasiness,  and  excuse  it.  The  miscreants 
will  break  into  the  house  like  thieves,  and 
treat  its  iiiin;itcs  worse  than  thieves.  They 
have  no  regard  for  decency, — no  consideration 
for  sex, — no  respect  for  persons.  Not  a  cham- 
ber is  sacred  t'rom  them.  If  a  door  is  bolted, 
they  burst  it  open ;  a  cabinet  locked,  they 
tarry  not  for  the  key.  They  pull  down  the 
hangings,  thrust  their  rapier-points  info  the 
crevices  of  the  wainscot,  discharge  their  fire- 
arms against  the  wall,  and  sometimes  threaten 
to  pull  down  the  house  itself,  if  the  object  of 
their  quest  be  not  delivered  to  them.  Their 
oaths,  abominations,  and  menaces  arc  hor- 
rible  ;  and  their  treatment  of  females,  even  of 
your  degree,  honoured  mistress,  too  barbarous 
to  relate.  Poor  Lady  Nevil  died  of  the  friglit 
she  got  by  such  a  visit  at  dead  of  night  to  her 
residence  in  Holborn.  Mrs.  Vavasour,  of  York, 
lost  her  senses ;  and  many  others  whom  I  could 
mention  have  been  equal  sufferers.  Nothing 
to  be  alarmed  at!  Heaven  grant,  my  dear, 
dear  young  lady,  that  you  may  never  be  fatally 
convinced  to  the  contrary  !" 

"  Suppose  my  apprehensions  are  as  great  as 
your  own.  Master  HeydoeUe,"  replied  Viviana, 
who,  though  somewhat  infected  by  his  terrors, 
still  maintained  her  firmness;  "I  do  not  see 
how  the  danger  that  threatens  us  is  to  be 
averted  by  idle  lamentations  and  misgivings. 
We  must  meet  it  boldly  ;  and  trust  to  Him  who 
is  our  only  safeguard  in  the  hour  of  peril,  for 
protection.  Do  not  alarm  the  household,  but 
let  all  retire  to  rest  as  usual." 

"  Right,  daugliter,"  observed  the  priest. 
"Preparations  for  resistance  would  only  excite 
suspicion." 

"  Can  you  depend  on  the  servants,  in  case 
ihey  are  examined  ?"  asked  Viviana  of  the 
steward,  who  by  this  time  had  partly  recovered 
his  composure. 

"  I  think  so,"  returned  Heydocke ;  "  but  the 
threats  of  the  officers  are  so  dreadful,  and  their 
conduct  so  violent  and  outrageous,  that  I  can 
scarcely  answer  for  myself  I  would  not  ad- 
vise your  reverence  to  remain  in  that  hiding- 
place,"  he  added,  pointing  to  the  chimney- 
piece;  "  they  are  sure  to  discover  it." 

"  If  not  here,  where  shall  I  conceal  myself?" 
rejoined  Oldcorne,  uneasily. 

"  There  are  many  nooks  in  which  your 
reverence  might  hide,"  replied  the  steward  ; 
"but  the  knaves  are  so  crafty,  and  so  well  ex- 
perienced in  their  vocation,  that  I  dare  not  re- 
commend any  of  them  as  secure.  I  would 
advise  you  to  remain  on  the  watch,  and,  in 
case  of  alarm,  I  will  conduct  you  to  the  oratory 
in  the  north  gallery,  adjoining  Mistiess  Vi- 
viana's  sleeping-chamber,  where  there  is  a 
panel  in  the  wall,  known  only  to  myself  and 
my  master,  opening  upon   a   secret   passage 


running  many  hundred  yards  under-ground, 
and  coninmnicuting  with  a  small  outbuilding 
on  the  other  side  of  the  moat.  There  is  a  con- 
trivance in  this  passage,  which  I  will  explain 
to  your  reverence  if  need  be,  which  will  cut 
off  any  possibility  of  pursuit  in  that  quarter." 

"  Be  it  so,"  replied  tlie  priest.  "  I  place  my- 
self in  your  hands,  good  Master  Heydocke, 
well  assured  of  your  fidelity.  I  shall  remain 
throughout  the  night  in  this  chamber,  occupied 
in  my  devotions." 

"  You  will  suffer  me  to  pray  with  you,  fa- 
ther, I  trust,"  said  Viviana. 

"  If  you  desire  it,  assuredly,  dear  daughter," 
rejoined  Oldcorne  ;  "  but  I  am  unwilling  you 
should  sacrifice  your  rest." 

"  It  will  be  no  sacrifice,  father,  for  I  should 
find  no  rest,  even  if  I  sought  my  couch,"  she 
returned.  "Go,  good  Heydocke.  Keep  vigi- 
lant watch  :  and  if  you  hear  the  slightest  noise 
without,  fail  not  to  give  us  warning." 

The  steward  bowed,  and  departed. 

Some  hours  elapsed,  during  which  nothing 
occurred  to  alarm  Viviana  and  her  companion, 
who  consumed  the  time  in  prayer  and  devout 
conversation ;  when,  just  at  the  stroke  of  two, 
— as  the  former  was  kneeling  before  the  spi- 
ritual adviser,  and  receiving  absolution  for  the 
slight  offences  of  which  a  being  so  pure-minded 
could  be  supposed  capable, — a  noise  like  the 
falling  of  a  bar  of  iron  was  heard  beneath  the 
window.  The  priest  turned  pale,  and  cast  a 
look  of  uneasiness  at  the  maiden,  who  said 
nothing,  but  snatching  up  the  light,  and  mo- 
tioning liim  to  remain  quiet,  hurried  out  of  the 
room  in  search  of  the  steward.  He  was  no- 
where to  be  found.  In  vain,  she  examined  all 
the  lower  rooms, — in  vain,  called  to  him  by  his 
name.     No  answer  was  returned. 

Greatly  terrified,  she  was  preparing  to  re- 
trace her  steps,  when  she  heard  the  sound  of 
muttered  voices  in  the  hall.  Extinguishing 
her  light  she  advanced  to  the  door,  which  was 
left  ajar,  and,  taking  care  not  to  expose  herself 
to  observation,  beheld  several  armed  figures, 
some  of  whom  bore  dark  lanterns,  while  others 
surrounded  and  menaced  with  their  drawn 
swords  the  unfortunate  steward.  From  their 
discourse  she  ascertained  that,  having  thrown 
a  plank  across  the  moat,  and  concealed  them- 
selves within  the  garden  until  they  had  recon- 
noitred the  premises,  they  had  contrived  to 
gain  admittance  unperccivcd  through  the  win- 
dow of  a  small  back  r<iom,  in  which  they  had 
surprised  Heydocke,  who  had  fallen  asleep  on 
his  post,  and  captured  him.  One  among  their 
number,  who  appeared  to  act  as  leader,  and 
whom,  from  his  garb  and  the  white  wand  he 
carried,  Viviana  knew  must  be  the  pursuivant, 
now  proceeded  to  interrogate  the  prisoner.  To 
every  question  proposed  to  him  the  steward 
shook  his  head ;  and,  in  spite  of  the  threats  of 
the  cxaminant,  and  the  l)lows  of  his  followers, 
he  persisted  in  maintaining  silence. 

"  If  we  cannot  make  this  contumacious  ras- 
cal speak,  we  will  find  others  more  tractable," 
observed  the  pursuivant.  "  I  will  not  leavo 
any  corner  of  the  house  unvisilcd  ;  nor  a  soul 
within  it  unquestioned.    Ah !  here  they  come  I" 


22 


GUY    FAWKES. 


As  he  spoke,  several  of  tlie  scrving-nien, 
with  some  of  the  female  domestics,  wlio  had 
been  alarmed  by  the  noise,  rushed  into  the 
hall,  and  on  seeing  it  filled  with  armed  men, 
were  about  to  retreat,  when  they  were  instant- 
ly seized  and  detained.  A  sctne  of  great  con- 
fusion now  ensued.  The  women  screamed, 
and  cried  for  mercy,  wliiie  tiie  men  struggled 
and  fought  with  their  captors.  Commanding 
silence  at  length,  the  pursuivant  proclaimed  in 
the  King's  name,  that  whoever  would  guide 
him  to  the  hiding-place  of  Father  Oldcorne,  a 
Jesuit  priest,  whom  it  was  known,  and  could 
be  proved,  was  harboured  within  tlie  mansion, 
should  receive  a  free  pardon  and  reward;  while 
those  who  screened  him,  or  connived  at  his 
concealment,  were  liable  to  fine,  imprisonment, 
and  other  punishment.  Each  servant  was 
then  questioned  separately.  But,  though  all 
were  more  or  less  severely  dealt  with,  no  in- 
formation could  be  elicited. 

Meanwhile,  Viviana  was  a  prey  to  the  most 
intolerable  anxiety.  Unable  to  reach  Father 
Oldcorne  which  she  did  not  dare  to  attempt, 
slic  gave  him  up  for  lost ;  her  sole  hope  being 
that,  on  hearing  the  cries  of  the  domestics,  he 
would  provide  for  his  own  safety.  Her  anxiety 
was  still  fartiicr  increased  when  the  pursuivant, 
having  exhausted  his  patience  by  fruitless  in- 
terrogatories, and  satisfied  his  malignant  spirit 
by  frightening  two  of  the  females  into  fits,  de- 
parted with  a  portion  of  his  band  to  search  the 
house,  leaving  the  rest  as  a  guard  over  the  pri- 
soners. Viviana  then  felt  that,  if  she  would 
save  Father  Oldcorne,  the  attempt  must  be 
made  without  a  moment's  delay,  and  at  any 
hazard.  Watching  her  opportunity,  when  the 
troopers  were  occupied, — some  in  helping  them- 
selves to  such  viands  and  liquors  as  they  could 
lay  hands  upon, — some  in  searching  the  per- 
sons of  the  prisoners  ibr  amulets  and  relies, — 
while  others,  more  humane,  were  trying  to 
revive  the  swooning  women,  she  contrived  to 
steal  unperceivcd  across  the  lower  end  of  the 
hall.  Having  gained  the  passage,  she  found 
to  her  horror  that  the  pursuivant  and  his  band 
were  already  within  the  star-chamber.  They 
were  sounding  the  walls  with  hammers  and 
mallets,  and  from  their  exclamations,  she  learnt 
that  they  had  discovered  the  retreat  behind  the 
fire-place,  and  were  about  to  break  it  open. 

"  We  have  him,"  roared  the  pursuivant,  in  a 
voice  of  triumph.  "  The  old  owl's  roost  is 
here !" 

Viviana,  who  stood  at  the  door,  drew  in  her 
breath,  expecting  that  tlie  next  moment  wnnid 
inform  her  that  the  priest  was  made  captive. 
Instead  of  this,  she  was  deliglited  to  find,  from 
the  oaths  of  rage  and  disappointment  uttered 
by  the  troopers,  that  he  had  eluded  them. 

"  He  must  be  in  the  house,  at  all  events," 
growled  the  pursuivant ;  "  nor  is  it  long  since 
he  quitted  his  hiding-place,  as  this  cushion 
proves.  We  will  not  go  away  without  him. 
And  now,  let  us  proceed  to  the  upper  cham- 
bers." 

Hearing  their  footsteps  approach,  Viviana 
darted  off,  and  quickly  ascending  the  principal 
staircase,  entered  a  long  corridor.     Uncertain 


what  to  do,  she  was  about  to  proceed  to  her 
own  chamber  and  bar  the  door,  when  she  felt 
her  arm  grasped  by  a  man.  With  difficulty 
repressing  a  shriek,  she  strove  to  disengage 
herself,  when  a  whisper  told  her  that  it  was 
the  priest. 

"Heaven  be  praised?"  murmured  Viviana, 
"you  are  safe.     How — how  did  you  escape?" 

"  I  flew  up  stairs  on  hearing  the  voices,"  re- 
plied Oldcorne.  "  But  what  has  happened  to 
the  steward  ?" 

"  He  is  a  prisoner,"  replied  Viviana. 

"  A  prisoner  !"  ecliocd  Oldcorne.  "  All, 
then,  is  lost ;  unless  you  are  acquainted  with 
the  secret  panel  he  spoke  of  in  the  oratory." 

"Alas!  father,  I  am  wholly  ignorant  of  it," 
she  answered.  "  But,  con)c  with  me  into  my 
chamber.     They  will  not  dare  to  invade  it." 

"  I  know  not  that,"  returned  the  priest, 
despairingly.  "  These  sacrilegious  heretics 
would  not  respect  the  sanctity  of  the  altar 
itself." 

"  They  come  I"  cried  Viviana,  as  lights 
were  seen  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  "  lake 
my  hand — this  way,  father." 

They  had  scarcely  gained  the  room,  and 
fastened  the  door,  when  the  pursuivant  and  his 
attendants  appeared  in  the  corridor.  The  of- 
ficer, it  would  seem,  had  been  well  instructed 
where  to  search,  or  was  sufficiently  practised 
in  his  duty,  for  he  proceeded  at  once  to  several 
hiding-places  in  the  different  chambers  which 
he  visited.  In  one  room  he  detected  a  secret 
staircase  in  the  wall,  which  he  mounted,  and 
discovered  a  small  chapel  built  in  the  roof 
Stripping  it  of  its  altar,  its  statue  of  the  Virgin, 
its  crucifix,  pix,  chalice,  and  other  consecrated 
vessels,  he  descended,  and  continued  his  search 
Viviana's  chamber  was  now  the  only  one  un- 
visitcd.  Trying  the  door,  and  finding  it  lock 
cd,  he  tapped  loudly  against  it  with  his  wand 

"  Who  knocks  ?"  asked  the  maiden. 

"  A  state  messenger,"  was  the  reply.  "  ] 
demand  entrance  in  the  King's  name." 

"  You  cannot  have  it,"  she  replied.  "  It  is 
my  sleeping-chamber." 

"My  duty  allows  me  no  alternative,"  rejoined 
the  pursuivant,  harshly.  "  If  you  will  not  ad- 
mit me  quietly,  I  must  use  force." 

"  Do  you  know  to  whom  you  offer  this  rude- 
ness ?"  returni  d  Viviana.  "  I  am  the  daughter 
of  Sir  Williain  Radeliffe." 

"  I  know  it,"  replied  the  pursuivant ;  "but  I 
am  not  exceeding  my  authority.  I  hold  a 
warrant  for  your  father's  arrest.  And,  if  he 
h;id  nrjt  been  from  home,  I  should  have  car- 
ried him  to  prison  along  with  the  Jesuit  priest, 
whom  I  suspect  is  concealed  within  your 
chamber.  Open  the  door,  I  command  you 
and  do  not  hinder  me  in  the  execution  of  my 
duty." 

As  no  answer  was  returned  to  the  applica- 
tion, the  pursuivant  commanded  his  men  to 
burst  open  the  door ;  and  the  order  was  prompt- 
ly obeyed. 

The  chamber  was  empty. 

On  searching  it,  however,  the  pursuivant 
found  a  door  concealed  by  the  hangings  of  the 
bed.     It  was    bolted  on    the   other   side,  bu' 


GUY    FAWKES. 


23 


speedily  yielded  to  his  efforts.  Passing  tlirough 
it,  he  entered  upon  a  narrow  gallery,  at  the 
extremity  of  which  his  progress  was  stopped 
by  anotlier  door,  likewise  fastened  on  the  out- 
side. On  bursting  it  open,  he  entered  a  small 
oratory,  wainscoted  with  oak,  and  lighted  by 
an  oriel  window  filled  with  stained  glass, 
through  which  the  newly-risen  moon  was 
pouring  its  full  radiance,  and  discovered  the 
object  of  his  search. 

"  Father  Oldcorne,  I  arrest  you  as  a  Jesuit 
and  a  traitor,"  shouted  tlie  pursuivant,  in  a 
voice  of  exultation.  "  Seize  him  I"  lie  added, 
calling  to  his  men. 

"  You  shall  not  take  hitn,"  cried  Viviana, 
clinging  despairingly  to  the  priest,  who  otTered 
no  resistance,  but  clasped  a  crucifix  to  his 
breast. 

"  Leave  go  your  hold,  young  mistress,"  re- 
joined the  pursuivant,  grasping  Oldcorne  by 
the  collar  of  his  vestment,  and  dragging  him 


along;  "and  rest  thankful  that  I  make  you 
not,  also,  my  prisoner." 

"  Take  me;  but  spare  him  I — in  mercy,  spare 
him  I"  shrieked  Viviana. 

"  You  solicit  mercy  from  one  who  knows  it 
not,  daugliter,"  observed  the  priest.  "  Lead 
on,  sir.     I  am  ready  to  attend  you." 

"  Your  destination  is  the  New  Fleet,  father," 
retorted  tlie  pursuivant,  in  a  tone  of  bitter  rail- 
lery ;  "  unless  you  prefer  the  cell  in  RadclifFe 
Hall  lately  vacated  by  your  predecessor,  Fa- 
ther  VVoodroof." 

"  Help  I  help  I"  shrieked  Viviana. 

"  You  may  spare  your  voice,  fair  lady," 
sneered  the  pursuivant.  "No  help  is  at  hand. 
Your  servants  are  all  prisoners." 

The  words  were  scarcely  uttered,  when  a 
sliding  panel  in  the  wall  flew  open,-  and  Guy 
Fawkes,  followed  by  Humphrey  Chethani,  and 
another  personage,  sprang  through  the  aper- 
ture, and  presented'  a  petronel  at  the  head  of 
the  pursuivant 


CHAPTER  V. 


CHAT  MOSS. 


The  pursuivant  was  taken  so  completely 
unawares  by  the  sudden  appearance  of  Guy 
Fawkes  and  his  companions,  that  he  made  no 
attempt  at  resistance.  Nor  were  his  attend- 
ants less  confounded.  Before  they  recovered 
from  their  surprise,  Humphrey  Chetham  seiz- 
ed Viviana  in  his  arms,  and  darting  through 
the  panel,  called  to  the  priest  to  follow  him. 
Father  Oldcorne  was  about  to  comply,  when 
one  of  the  soldiers,  grasping  the  surcingle  at 
his  waist,  dragged  him  forcibly  backwards. 
The  next  moment,  however,  he  was  set  free 
by  Guy  Fawkes,  who  felling  the  man  to  the 
ground,  and,  interposing  himself  between  the 
priest  and  the  other  soldier,  enabled  the  for- 
mer to  make  good  his  retreat.  This  done,  he 
■planted  himself  in  front  of  the  panel,  and  with 
a  petronel  in  each  hand,  menaced  his  oppo- 
nents. 

"  Fly  for  your  lives  !"  he  shouted  in  a  loud 
voice  to  the  others.  Not  a  moment  is  to  be 
lost  I  have  taken  greater  odds,  and  in  a 
worse  cause,  and  have  not  been  worsted.  Heed 
me  not,  I  say.  I  will  defend  the  passage  till 
you  are  beyond  reach  of  danger.  Fly  I  — 
fly!" 

"  After  them  !"  vociferated  the  pursuivant, 
stamping  with  rage  and  vexation;  " — after 
them  instantly  !  Hew  down  that  hold  traitor. 
Show  him  no  quarter.  His  life  is  forfeit  to 
the  King.     Slay  him  as  you  would  a  dog  I" 

But  the  men,  who  had  no  fire-arms,  were  so 
much  intimidated  by  the  fierce  looks  of  Guy 
Fawkes,  and  the  deadly  weapons  which  he 
pointed  at  their  heads,  that  they  hesitated  to 
i>bey  their  leader's  injunctions. 


"  Do  you  hear  what  I  say  to  you,  cravens  ?" 
roared  the  pursuivant.  "Cut  him  down  with- 
out mercy."  , 

"  They  dare  not  move  a  footstep,"  rejoined 
Guy  Fawkes,  in  a  derisive  tone. 

"  Recreants  !"  cried  the  pursuivant,  foaming 
with  rage,  "is  my  prey  to  be  snatched  from 
me  at  the  very  moment  I  have  secured  it, 
through  your  cowardice  ?  Obey  me  instantly, 
or,  as  Heaven  shall  jydge  me,  I  will  denounce 
you  to  my  Lord  Derby  and  the  Commissioners 
as  aiders  and  abettors  in  Father  Oldcorne's 
escape ! — and  you  well  know  what  your  pun- 
ishment will  be  if  I  do  so.  What ! — are  you 
afraid  of  one  man  ?" 

"  Our  pikes  are  no  match  for  his  petronels," 
observed  the  foremost  soldier,  sullenly. 

"  They  are  not,"  rejoined  Guy  Fawkes ; 
"  and  you  will  do  well  not  to  compel  me  to 
prove  the  truth  of  your  assertion.  As  to  you. 
Master  Pursuivant,"  he  continued,  with  a  look 
so  stern  that  the  other  quailed  before  it,  "  un- 
willing as  I  am  to  shed  blood,  I  shall  hold  your 
lile,  if  I  am  compelled  to  take  it,  but  just 
retribution  for  the  fate  you  have  brought  upon 
the  mifortunafe  FOlizabcth  Orton." 

"Ha!"  exclaimed  the  pursuivant,  starting. 
"  I  thought  I  recognised  you.  You  arc  the 
soldier  in  the  S|)nnish  garb  who  saved  that 
false  prophetess  from  drowning." 

"  I  saved  her  only  for  a  more  lingering 
death,"  rejoined  (niy  Fawkes. 

"I  know  it,"  retorted  the  pursuivant  "I 
found  her  dead  body  when  I  visited  her  Cfil 
on  my  way  hither,  and  gave  orders  to  have  il 
interred  without  coffin  or  shroud  in  that  part 


24 


GUY   FAWKES. 


of  the  burial-ground  of  the  Collegiate  Church 
in  Manchester,  which  is  reserved  for  common 
felons." 

"  I  know  not  what  stays  my  hand,"  rejoined 
Guy  Fawkes,  fiercely.  "  But  I  am  strongly 
tempted  to  give  you  a  grave  beside  her." 

"  I  will  put  your  daring  to  tlie  proof  I"  cried 
the  pursuivant,  snatching  a  pike  from  one  of 
his  followers,  and  bnmdishing  it  over  his  head. 
"  Throw  down  your  arms,  or  you  die  1" 

"  Back  1"  exclaimed  (Juy  Fawkes,  present- 
ing a  petronel  at  him,  "  or  I  lodge  a  bullet  in 
your  brain." 

"  Be  advised  by  me,  and  rush  not  on  certain 
destruction,  good  Master  Pursuivant,"  said  the 
foremost  soldier,  plucking  his  mantle.  "1  see 
by  his  bloodthirsty  looks  that  the  villain  is  in 
earnest." 

"  I  hear  footsteps,"  cried  the  other  soldier ; 
"  our  comrades  are  at  hand." 

"  Then  it  is  time  for  me  to  depart,"  cried 
Guy  Fawkes,  springing  through  the  secret 
door,  and  closing  it  after  him. 

"Confusion!"  e.\claimed  the  pursuivant; 
"  but  he  shall  not  escape.  Break  open  the 
panel." 

The  order  was  promptly  obeyed.  The  men 
battered  the  stout  oak  board,  which  was  of 
great  thickness,  with  their  pikes,  but  it  resist- 
ed every  effort ;  nor  was  it  until  the  arrival  of 
a  fresh  band  of  soldiers  with  lights,  mallets, 
chisels,  and  other  implements  suitable  to  the 
purpose,  that  it  could  be  forced  open.  This 
accomplished,  the  pursuivant,  commanding 
his  attendants  to  follow  him,  dashed  through 
the  aperture.  The  passage  was  so  narrow, 
that  they  were  compelled  to  proceed  singly 
along  it,  and,  as  they  advanced,  the  roof  be- 
came so  low  that  they  were  compelled  to  adopt 
a  stooping  posture.  In  this  manner  they 
hurried  on  until  their  further  progress  was 
stopped  by  a  massive  stone  door,  which  ap- 
peared to  descend  from  above  by  some  hidden 
contrivance,  as  no  trace  of  bolt  or  other  fasten- 
ing could  be  detected  ;  bpt  the  flag,  fitting 
closely  in  channels  in  the  walls,  had  all  the 
appearance  of  solid  masonrj'.  After  examin- 
ing this  obstacle  for  a  moment,  the  pursuivant 
was  convinced  that  any  attempt  to  move  it 
would  be  fruitless,  and  muttering  a  deep  exe- 
cration, he  therefore  gave  the  word  to  return. 

"  From  what  I  have  observed,"  he  said, 
"this  passage  must  communicate  with  the 
garden, —  perhaps  with  the  further  side  of  the 
moat.  We  may  yet  secure  them,  if  we  use 
despatch." 

Guy  Fawkes,  meanwhile,  had  taken  the 
same  course  as  the  pursuivant.  On  arriving 
at  the  point  where  the  stone  door  was  situated, 
which  he  discovered  by  the  channels  in  the 
wall  above-mentioned,  he  searched  for  an  iron 
ring,  and,  having  found  it,  drew  it  towards 
him,  and  the  ponderous  flag  slowly  dropped 
into  its  place.  He  then  groped  his  way  cau- 
tiously along  in  the  dark,  until  his  foot  encoun- 
tered the  lop  of  a  ladder,  down  which  he  crept, 
and  landed  on  the  floor  of  a  damp  deep  vault. 
Having  taken  the  precaution  to  remove  the 
ladder,  he    hastened   onwards  for  about  fifty 


yards,  when  he  came  to  a  steep  flight  of  stone 
steps,  distinguishable  by  a  feeble  glimmer  of 
light  from  above,  and  mounting  them,  emerged 
through  an  open  trap-door  into  a  small  build- 
ing situated  at  the  western  side  of  the  moat, 
where,  to  his  surprise  and  disappointment,  he 
found  the  other  fugitives. 

"  How  cotnes  it  you  are  here  ?"  hee.xclaimed 
in  a  reproachful  tone.  "  I  kept  the  wolves  at 
bay  thus  long,  to  enable  you  to  make  good 
your  retreat." 

"Miss  RadclifFe  is  too  weak  to  move,"  re- 
plied Humphrey  Chetiiam  ;  "and  I  could  not 
persuade  Father  Oldcorne  to  leave  her." 

"  1  care  not  what  becomes  of  me,"  said  the 
priest.  "The  sooner  my  painful  race  is  run 
the  better.  But  I  cannot — will  not  abandon 
my  dear  charge  thus." 

"Think  not  of  me,  father,  I  implore  you," 
rejoined  Viviana,  who  had  sunk  overpowered 
with  terror  and  exhaustion.  "  I  shall  be  bet- 
ter soon.  Master  Chetham,  I  am  assured,  will 
remain  with  me  til!  our  enemies  have  departed, 
and  I  will  then  return  to  the  hall." 

"Command  jne  as  you  please,  Mis.s  Rad- 
clifTe,"  replied  Humphrey  Chetham.  "  You 
have  but  to  express  a  wish  to  insure  its  fulfil- 
ment on  my  part." 

"  Oh  !  that  you  had  sufTered  Mr.  Catesby  to 
tarry  with  us  till  the  morning,  as  he  himself 
proposed,  dear  daughter,"  observed  the  priest, 
turning  to  Viviana.  "  His  counsel  w-ould  have 
been  invaluable  at  this  frightful  juncture." 

"Has  Mr.  Catesby  been  here?"  inquired 
Guy  Fawkes,  with  a  look  of  astonishment. 

"  He  has,"  replied  Oldcorne.  "He  came  to 
warn  us  that  the  hall  would  be  this  night 
searched  by  the  officers  of  state  ;  and  he  also 
brought  word  that  a  warrant  had  been  issued 
by  the  Privy  Council  for  the  arrest  of  Sir  Wil- 
liam RadcliflTe." 

"  Where  is  he  now  ?"  demandeu  Fawkes, 
hastily. 

"  On  the  way  to  Chester,  whither  he  departed 
in  all  haste,  at  .Miss  Radcliffe's  urgent  request, 
to  apprize  her  father  of  his  danger,"  rejoined 
the  priest. 

"This  is  strange!"  muttered  Guy  Fawkes. 
"Catesby  here,  and  I  not  know  it !" 

"  He  had  a  secret  motive  for  his  visit,  my 
son,"  whispered  Oldcorne,  significantly. 

"  So  I  conclude,  father,"  replied  Fawkes,  in 
tlie  same  tone. 

"Miss  RadclifFe,"  murmured  Humphrey 
Chethain,  in  low  and  tender  accents,  "  some- 
thing tells  me  that  this  moment  will  decide  my 
future  fate.  Emboldened  by  the  mysterious 
manner  in  which  we  have  been  brought  toge- 
ther, and  you,  as  it  were,  have  been  thrown 
upon  my  protection,  T  venture  to  declare  the 
passion  I  have  long  indulged  for  you  : — a  pas- 
sion which,  though  deep  and  fervent  as  ever 
atritated  human  bosom,  has  hitherto,  from  the 
difference  of  our  rank,  and  yet  more  from  the 
difference  of  our  religious  opinions,  been  with- 
oiit  hope.  What  has  just  occurred, — added  to 
the  peril  in  which  your  worthy  father  stands, 
and  the  difficulties  in  which  you  j-ourself  will 
necessarily  be  involved, — makes  rue  cast  asidtt 


GUY    FAWKES. 


25 


ail  misgiving',  and  perhaps  with  too  much  pre- 
sumption, but  with  a  confident  belief  that  the 
sincerity  of  my  love  renders  me  not  wholly 
undeserving  of  your  regard, — earnestly  solicit 
you  to  give  me  a  Imsbaiid's  rigiit  to  watch 
over  and  defend  you." 

Viviana  was  silent.  But  even  by  the  im- 
perfect light  the  young  mercliant  could  discern 
that  her  cheek  was  covered  with  blushes. 

"  Your  answer  ? "  he  cried,  taking  her 
hand. 

"  You  must  take  it  from  my  lips,  Master 
Chetham,"  interposed  the  priest :  "  Miss  Rad- 
clifte  never  can  be  yours." 

"  Be  pleased  to  let  her  speak  for  herself,  re- 
verend sir,"  rejoined  the  young  merchant,  an- 
grily- 

"  I  represent  her  father,  and  have  acquainted 
you  with  his  determination,"  rejoined  tiie 
priest.  "  Appeal  to  her,  and  she  will  confirm 
my  words." 

"  Viviana,  is  this  true  ?"  asked  Chetham. 
"  Does  your  father  object  to  your  union  with 
me  ?" 

"  He  does,"  she  replied,  in  a  mournful  tone, 
and  gently  withdrawing  her  hand  from  the 
young  merchant's  grasp. 

"  Then  there  is  no  hope  for  me  ?"  cried 
Chetham. 

"  Alas  1  no,"  replied  Viviana ;  "  nor  for  me 
— of  earthly  affection.  I  am  already  dead  to 
the  world." 

"  How  so  ?"  he  asked. 

"  I  am  about  to  vow  myself  to  Heaven,"  she 
answered. 

"  Viviana  I"  exclaimed  the  young  man, throw- 
ing himself  at  her  feet,  "reflect! — oh  I  reflect, 
before  you  take  this  fatal — this  irrevocable 
step." 

"  Rise,  sir,"  interposed  the  priest,  sternly  ; 
"you  plead  in  vain.  Sir  William  Radclitfe 
will  never  wed  his  daughter  to  a  heretic.  In 
his  name  I  command  you  to  desist  from  fur- 
ther solicitation." 

"  I  obey,"  replied  Chetham,  rising. 

"  We  lose  time  here,"  observed  Guy  Fawkes, 
who  had  been  lost  for  a  moment  in  reflection. 
"  I  will  undertake  to  provide  for  your  safety, 
father.  But,  what  must  be  done  with  Miss 
Radcliffe  ?  She  cannot  be  lofl  here.  And  her 
return  to  the  hall  would  be  attended  with  dan- 
ger." 

"  I  will  not  return  till  the  miscreants  have 
quitted  it,"  said  Viviana. 

"  Their  departure  is  uncertain,"  replied 
Fawkes.  "  When  they  are  baulked  of  their 
prey  they  sometimes  haunt  a  dwelling  for 
weeks." 

"  What  will  become  of  me  ?"  cried  Viviana, 
distractedly. 

•'  It  were  vain,  I  fear,  to  entreat  you  to  ac- 
cept an  asylum  with  my  father  at  Clayton 
Hall,  or  at  my  own  residence  at  Crumpsall," 
said  Humphrey  Chetham. 

"  Your  offer  is  most  kind,  sir,"  replied  Old- 
corne,  "and  is  duly  appreciated.  But  Miss 
Radcliffe  will  see  the  propriety — on  every  ac- 
count— of  declining  it." 

"  I  do — I  do,"  she  acquiesced. 
3  D 


"  Will  you  entrust  yourself  to  my  protection, 
Miss  Radcliffe  ?"  said  Fawkes. 

"Willingly,"  replied  the  priest,  answering 
for  her.  "  We  shall  find  some  pluce  of  re- 
fuge," he  added,  turning  to  Viviana,  "  where 
your  father  can  join  us,  and  where  we  can 
remain  concealed  till  this  storm  has  blown 
over." 

"  I  know  many  such,"  rejoined  Fawkes, 
"  both  in  this  county,  and  in  Yorkshire,  and 
will  guide  you  to  one." 

"  My  horses  are  at  your  service,"  said  Hum- 
phrey Chetham.  "  They  are  tied  beneath  the 
trees  in  the  avenue.  My  servant  shall  bring 
them  to  the  door,"  and,  turning  to  his  attend- 
ant, he  gave  him  directions  to  that  effect.  "  I 
was  riding  hither  an  hour  before  midnight," 
he  continued,  addressing  Viviana,  "to  offer 
you  assistance,  having  accidentally  heard  the 
pursuivant  mention  his  meditated  visit  to  Ord- 
sall  Hall  to  one  of  his  followers,  when,  as  I 
approached  the  gates,  this  person,"  pointing  to 
Guy  Fawkes,  "  crossed  my  path,  and,  seizing 
the  bridle  of  my  steed,  demanded  whether  I 
was  a  friend  to  Sir  William  Radcliffe.  I  an- 
swered  in  the  affirmative,  and  desired  to  know 
the  motive  of  his  inquiry.  He  then  told  me 
that  the  house  was  invested  by  a  numerous 
band  of  armed  men,  who  had  crossed  the  moat 
by  means  of  a  plank,  and  were  at  that  mo- 
ment concealed  within  the  garden.  This  in- 
telligence, besides  filling  me  with  alarm,  dis- 
concerted all  my  plans,  as  I  hoped  to  have  been 
beforehand  with  them,  —  their  inquisitorial 
searches  being  generally  made  at  a  late  hour, 
when  all  the  inmates  of  a  house  intended  to 
be  surprised  are  certain  to  have  retired  to  rest. 
While  I  was  bitterly  reproaching  myself  for 
my  dilatoriness,  and  considering  what  course 
it  would  be  best  to  pursue,  my  servant,  Martin 
Heydocke, — son  to  your  father's  steward, — 
who  had  ridden  up  at  the  stranger's  approach, 
informed  me  tliat  he  was  acquainted  with  a 
secret  passage  communicating  beneath  the 
moat  with  the  hall.  Upon  this  I  dismounted, 
and  fastening  my  horse  to  a  tree,  ordered  him 
to  lead  me  to  it  without  an  instant's  delay. 
The  stranger,  who  gave  his  name  as  Guy 
Fawkes,  and  professed  himself  a  stanch  Catho- 
lic, and  a  friend  of  Father  Oldcornc,  begged 
permission  to  join  us  in  a  tone  so  earnest  that 
I  at  once  acceded  to  his  request.  We  then 
proceeded  to  this  building,  and  after  some 
search  discovered  the  trap-door.  Much  time 
was  lost,  owing  to  our  being  unprovided  with 
lights,  in  the  subterranean  passage ;  and  it 
was  more  than  two  hours  before  we  eould  find 
the  ring  connected  with  the  stonc-door,  the 
mystery  of  which  Martin  explained  to  us. 
This  delay  we  feared  would  render  our  scheme 
abortive,  when,  just  as  we  reached  the  panel 
we  heard  your  shrieks.  The  spring  was 
touched,  and — you  know  the  rest." 

"  And  shall  never  forget  it,"  replied  Viviana, 
in  a  tone  of  the  deepest  gratitude. 

At  this  juncture,  the  tramp  of  horses  was 
heard  at  the  door ;  and  the  next  moment  it 
was  thrown  open  by  the  younger  Heydocke, 
who,  with  a  look,  and  in  a  voice  of  the  utmost 


26 


GUY    FAWKES. 


terror,  exclaimed,  "  They  are  coming  ! — tliey 
are  coming !" 

"The  pursuivant?'  cried  Guy  Fawkes. 

"  Not  him  alone,  but  the  whole  gang,"  re- 
joined Martin.  "Some  of  them  are  lowering 
the  drawbridge,  while  others  are  crossing  the 
plank.  Several  are  on  horseback,  and  I  think 
I  discern  the  pursuivant  amongst  tlie  number. 
They  have  seen  me,  and  are  hurrying  in  this 
direction." 

As  he  spoke,  a  loud  shout  corroborated  his 
Btatcment. 

"  We  are  lost !"  exclaimed  Oldcorne. 

"  Do  not  despair,  tkther,"  rejoined  Guy 
Fawkes.  "  Heaven  will  mjt  abandon  its  faith- 
ful servants.  The  Lord  will  deliver  us  out  of 
the  hands  of  these  Amalekites." 

"To  horse,  then,  if  you  would  indeed  avoid 
them,"  urged  Humphrey  Chetham.  "  The 
shouts  grow  louder.  Your  enemies  are  fast 
approaching." 

"Miss  Radcliffe,"  said  Guy  Fawkes,  "are 
you  willing  to  tly  with  us  ?" 

"  I  will  do  anything  rather  than  be  left  to 
those  horrible  men,"  she  answered. 

Guy  Fawkes  then  raised  her  in  his  arms, 
and  sprang  with  his  lovely  burden  upon  the 
nearest  charger.  His  example  was  quickly 
followed  by  Humphrey  Chetham,  who,  vault- 
ing on  the  other  horse,  assisted  the  priest  to 
mount  behind  him.  While  this  took  place 
Martin  darted  into  the  shed,  and  instantly 
bolted  the  door. 

It  was  a  beautiful  moonlight  night,  almost 
as  bright  as  day,  and  the  movements  of  each 
party  were  therefore  fully  revealed  to  the 
other.  Guy  Fawkes  perceived  at  a  glance 
that  they  were  surrounded  ;  and,  though  he 
had  no  fears  for  himself,  was  full  of  apppre- 
hcnsion  for  the  safety  of  his  companion. 
While  he  was  debating  with  himself  as  to  the 
course  it  would  be  be.-^l  to  pursue,  Humphrey 
Chetham  shouted  to  him  to  turn  to  the  left, 
and  started  off  in  tliat  direction.  Grasping 
liis  fair  charge,  whom  he  had  placed  before 
him  on  the  saddle,  firmly  with  his  left  arm, 
and  wrapping  her  in  his  ample  cloak,  Guy 
Fawkes  drew  his  sword,  and  striking  spurs 
into  his  steed,  followed  in  the  same  track. 

The  little  fabric  which  had  afforded  them 
temporary  shelter,  it  has  already  been  men- 
tioned, was  situated  on  the  west  of  the  hall, 
at  a  short  distance  from  tiie  moat,  and  was 
screened  from  observation  by  a  small  shrub- 
bery. No  sooner  did  the  fugitives  emerge 
from  this  cover  than  loud  outcries  were  raised 
by  their  antagonists,  and  every  effort  was 
made  to  intercept  them.  On  the  right,  gal- 
loping towards  them  on  a  light,  but  swifl 
courser,  taken  from  Sir  William  Radeliffe's 
etables,  came  the  pursuivant,  attended  by  half- 
a-dozen  troopers,  w^ho  had  accommodated  them- 
selves with  horses  in  the  same  manner  as  their 
leader.  Between  them  and  the  road  leading 
to  Manchester  were  stationed  several  armed 
men  on  foot.  At  the  rear,  voices  proclaimed 
that  others  were  in  full  pursuit ;  while  in  front, 
a  fourth  detachment  menaced  them  with  their 
pikes.     Thus  beset  on   all   sides,  it  seemed 


scarcely  possible  to  escape.  Nothing  daunted, 
however,  by  the  threats  and  vociferations  with 
which  they  were  received,  the  two  horsemen 
boldly  charged  this  party.  The  encounter 
was  instantaneous.  Guy  Fawkes  warded  off 
a  blow, — whicl),  if  it  had  taken  etleet,  must 
have  robbed  Miss  Radcliffe  of  life, — and  struck 
down  the  fellow  who  aimed  it.  At  the  same 
moment,  his  career  was  checked  by  another 
assailant,  who,  catching  his  bridle  with  the 
hook  of  his  pike,  commanded  him  to  surrender.' 
Fawkes  replied  by  cleaving  the  man's  staff 
asunder,  and  having  thus  disembarrassed 
liimself,  was  about  to  pursue  his  course  when 
he  perceived  that  Humphrey  Chetham  was  in 
imminent  danger  from  a  couple  of  soldiers, 
who  had  stopped  hiui,  and  were  trying  to  un- 
horse his  companion.  Riding  up  to  them, 
Guy  Fawkes,  by  a  vigorous  and  well-directed 
attack,  speedily  drove  them  off;  and  the  fugi- 
tives, being  now  unimpeded,  were  enabled  to 
continue  their  career. 

The  foregoing  occurrences  were  witnessed 
by  the  pursuivant  with  the  utmost  rage  and 
vexation.  Pouring  forth  a  torrent  of  threats 
and  imprecations,  he  swore  he  would  never 
rest  till  he  had  secured  them,  and  urging  his 
courser  to  its  utmost  speed,  commanded  his 
men  to  give  chase. 

Skirling  the  brink  of  a  sluice  which  served 
to  convey  the  water  of  the  Irwell  to  the  moat, 
Humphrey  Chetham, — who,  as  belter  acquaint- 
ed with  the  country  than  his  companion,  took 
the  lead, — proceeded  in  this  direction  for  about 
a  hundred  yards,  when  he  suddenly  struck 
across  a  narrow  bridge  covered  with  sod,  and 
I  entered  the  open  fields.  Hitherto,  Viviana  had 
remained  silent.  Though  fully  aware  of  the 
risk  she  had  run,  she  gave  no  sign  of  alarm, 
— not  even  when  the  blow  was  aimed  against 
her  life.  And  it  was  only  now  that  she  con- 
ceived the  danger  was  in  some  degree  passed 
that  she  ventured  to  express  her  gratitude. 

"  You  have  displayed  so  much  courage.  Miss 
Radcliffe,"  said  Guy  Fawkes,  in  iinswer  to  hc^- 
speech,  "  that  it  would  be  unpardonable  to  de- 
ceive you.  Our  foes  are  too  near  us,  and  too 
well  mounted,  to  make  it  by  any  means  cer- 
tain we  shall  escape  them, — unless  by  strata- 
gem." 

"  They  are  within  an  hundred  yards  of  us," 
cried  Humphrey  Chetham,  glancing  fearfully 
backwards.  "  They  have  possessed  themselves 
of  your  father's  fleetest  horses.  And,  if  1  mis- 
take not,  the  rascally  pursuivant  has  .secured 
your  favourite  barb." 

"  My  gentle  Zayda !"  exclaimed  Viviana. 
"Then  indeed  we  are  lost.  She  has  not  her 
match  for  speed." 

"  If  she  brings  her  rider  to  us  alone,  she  will 
do  us  good  service,"  observed  Guy  Fawkes, 
significantly. 

The  same  notion,  almost  at  the  same  mo- 
ment, occurred  to  the  pursuivant.  Having 
witnessed  the  prowess  displayed  by  Guy 
Fawkes  in  his  recent  attack  upon  the  soldiers, 
he  felt  no  disposition  to  encounter  so  formi- 
able  an  opponent  single-handed  ;  and  finding 
that  the  highrmettled  barb  on  which  he  wa* 


GUY    FAWKES. 


27 


mounted,  by  its  superior  speed  and  fiery  tem- 
per, would  inevitably  place  him  in  such  a  di- 
lemma, he  prudently  resolved  to  halt,  and  ex- 
changee it  for  a  more  manageable  steed. 

This  delay  was  of  great  service  to  the  fugi- 
tives, and  enabled  them  to  get  considerably 
ahead.  They  had  now  gained  a  narrow  lane, 
and  tracking  it,  speedily  reached  the  rocky 
banks  of  the  Irvvell.  Galloping  along  a  foot- 
path which  followed  the  serpentine  course  of 
the  stream  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  they  arrived 
at  a  spot  marked  by  a  bed  of  osiers,  where 
Humphrey  Chetham  informed  them  the  river 
was  fordable. 

Accordingly,  they  plunged  into  the  water, 
and  while  stemming  the  current,  which  here 
ran  with  great  swiftness,  and  rose  up  above 
the  saddles,  the  neighing  of  a  steed  was  heard 
from  the  bank  they  had  quitted.  Turning  at 
the  sound,  Viviana  beheld  lier  favourite  courser 
on  the  summit  of  a  high  rock.  The  soldier  to 
whom  Z.iyda  was  intrusted  had  speedily,  as 
tlie  pursuivant  foresaw,  distanced  his  compa- 
nions, and  had  chosen  this  elevated  position  to 
take  sure  aim  at  Guy  Fawkes,  against  whom 
lie  was  now  levelling  a  caliver.  The  next  mo- 
ment a  bullet  struck  against  his  brigandine, 
but  without  doing  him  the  slightest  injury. 
The  soldier,  however,  did  not  escape  so  lightly. 
Startled  by  the  discharge,  the  fiery  barb  leapt 
from  the  precipice  into  the  river,  and  throwing 
her  rider,  who  was  borne  off  by  the  rapid 
stream,  swam  after  her  mistress.  She  reached 
the  opposite  bank  just  as  the  others  were  land- 
ing, and  at  the  sound  of  Viviana's  voice  stood 
still,  and  allowed  Humphrey  Chetham  to  lay 
hold  of  her  bridle.  Viviana  declaring  she  was 
able  to  mount  her,  Guy  Fawkes,  who  felt  that 
such  an  arrangement  was  most  likely  to  con- 
duce to  her  safety,  and  who  was,  moreover,  in- 
clined to  view  the  occurrence  as  a  providential 
interference  in  their  behalf,  innnediately  as- 
sisted her  into  the  saddle. 

Before  this  transfer  could  be  effected,  the 
pursuivant  and  his  attendants  had  begun  to 
ford  the  stream.  The  former  had  vi'itnessed 
the  accident  which  had  befallen  the  soldier 
from  a  short  distance ;  and  while  he  affected 
to  deplore  it,  internally  congratulated  himself 
on  his  prudence  and  foresight.  But  he  was  by 
no  means  so  well  satisfied  when  he  saw  how 
it  served  to  benefit  the  fugitives. 

"That  unlucky  beast!"  he  exclaimed. — 
"  Some  fiend  must  have  prompted  mc  to  bring 
her  out  of  the  stable.  Would  she  had  drowned 
herself  instead  of  poor  Dickon  Duckesbury, 
whom  she  hath  sent  to  feed  the  fishes !  With 
her  aid.  Miss  Radcliffe  will  doubtless  escape. 
No  matter.  If  I  secure  Father  Oldcorne,  and 
that  black. visaged  trooper  in  the  Spanish  garb, 
who,  I  '11  be  sworn,  is  a  secret  intelligencer  of 
the  pope,  if  not  of  the  devil,  I  shall  be  well 
contented.  I'll  hang  them  both  on  a  gibbet 
higher  than  Haman's."      ••    ' 

And  muttering  other  threats  to  the  same  ef- 
fect, he  picked  his  way  to  the  opposite  shore. 
Long  before  he  reached  it,  the  fugitives  had 
disappeared.  But  on  climbing  the  bank,  he 
beheld  them  galloping  swiftly  across  a  well- 


wooded  district  steeped  in  moonlight,  and 
spread  out  before  his  view;  and,  infiamcd  by 
the  sight,  he  shouted  to  his  attendants,  and 
once  more  started  in  pursuit. 

Cheered  by  the  fortunate  incident  above  re- 
lated, which,  in  presenting  her  with  her  own 
steed  in  a  manner  so  surprising  and  unexpect- 
ed, seemed  almost  to  give  her  assurance  of  de- 
liverance, Viviana,  inspirited  by  the  exercise, 
felt  her  strength  and  spirits  rapidly  revive.  At 
her  side  rode  Guy  Fawkes,  who  ever  and  anon 
east  an  anxious  look  behind,  to  ascertain  the 
distance  of  their  pursuers,  but  suffered  no  ex- 
clamation to  escape  his  lips.  Indeed,  through- 
out the  whole  affair,  he  maintained  the  reserve 
which  belonged  to  his  sombre  and  taciturn 
character,  and  neither  questioned  Humphrey 
Chetham  as  to  where  he  was  leading  them, 
nor  proposed  any  deviation  from  the  route  be 
had  apparently  chosen.  To  such  remarks  as 
were  addressed  to  him  Fawkes  answered  in 
monosyllables  ;  and  it  was  only  when  occasion 
required,  that  he  volunteered  any  observation 
or  advice.  He  seemed  to  surrender  himself  to 
chance.  And  perhaps,  if  his  bosom  could  have 
been  examined,  it  would  have  been  found  that 
he  considered  himself  a  mere  puppet  in  the 
hands  of  destiny. 

In  other  and  calmer  seasons,  he  might  have 
dwelt  with  rapture  on  the  beautiful  and  varied 
country  through  which  they  were  speeding, 
and  which,  from  every  knoll  they  mounted, 
every  slope  they  descended,  every  glade  they 
threaded,  intricacy  pierced,  or  tangled  dell 
tracked,  presented  new  and  increasing  attrac- 
tions. This  charming  district,  which  has  since 
been  formed  into  a  park  by  the  Traffords,  from 
whom  it  derives  its  present  designation,  was  at 
this  time, — though  part  of  the  domain  of  that 
ancient  family, — wholly  unenclosed.  Old  Traf- 
ford  Hall  lies  (for  it  is  still  in  existence,)  more 
than  a  mile  nearer  to  Manchester,  a  little  to 
the  east  of  Ordsall  Hall ;  but  the  modern  re- 
sidence of  the  family  is  situated  in  the  midst 
of  the  lovely- region  through  which  the  fugi- 
tives were  riding. 

But,  though  the  charms  of  the  scene,  height- 
ened by  the  gentle  medium  through  which 
they  were  viewed,  produced  little  effect  upon 
the  iron  nature  of  Guy  Fawkes,  they  were  not 
without  influence  on  his  companions,  especially 
Viviana.  Soothed  by  the  stillness  of  all  around 
her,  she  almost  forgot  her  danger  ;  and  sur- 
rendering herself  to  the  dreamy  enjoyment 
generally  experienced  in  contemplating  such 
a  scene  at  such  an  hour,  suffered  her  gaze  to 
wander  over  the  fair  woody  landscape  before 
her,  till  it  was  lost  in  the  distant  moonlit  wolds. 

From  tile  train  of  thought  naturally  awaken- 
ed by  this  spectacle,  she  was  roused  by  the 
shouts  of  the  pursuers;  and,  glancing  fearfully 
behind  her,  she  beheld  them  hurrying  swiftly 
along  the  valley  they  had  just  quitted.  From 
the  rapidity  with  which  they  were  advancing, 
it  was  evident  they  were  gaining  upon  them, 
and  she  was  about  to  urge  her  courser  to 
greater  speed,  when  Humphrey  Chetham  laid 
his  hand  upon  the  rein  to  check  her. 

"  Reserve  yourself,  till  we  gain  the  brow  of 


28 


GUY   FAWKES. 


tills  hill,"  lie  remarked  ;  "  and  then  put  Zayda 
to  her  inutile.  We  are  not  far  I'roni  our  des- 
tination." 

"  Indeed  I"  exclaimed  Viviana.  "  Where  is 
it?" 

"  I  will  show  it  you  presently,"  he  an- 
swered. 

Arrived  at  the  summit  of  tlie  high  ground, 
which  they  had  been  for  some  time  gradually 
ascending,  the  youtig  merchant  pointed  out  a 
vast  boggy  tract,  about  two  miles  off,  in  tlie 
vale  beneath  them. 

"  1'hat  is  our  destination,"  he  said. 

"  Did  I  not  hold  it  impossible  you  could 
triHe  with  nic  at  such  a  time  as  this,  Master 
Chetham,  I  should  say  you  were  jesting,"  re- 
joined Viviana.  "  The  place  you  indicate,  un- 
less I  mistake  you,  is  Chat  Moss,  the  largest 
and  most  d:ingcrous  marsh  in  Lancashire." 

"  You  do  not  mistake  nie,  neither  am  I  jest- 
ing. Miss  Radclitie,"  replied  the  young  mer- 
chant, gravely.  "  Chat  Moss  is  the  mark  at 
which  1  aim." 

"  If  we  arc  to  cross  it,  we  shall  need  a  Will- 
o'-the-wisp  to  guide  us,  and  some  friendly  elf 
to  make  firm  the  ground  beneath  our  steeds," 
rejoined  Viviana,  in  a  slightly  sarcastic  tone. 

"  Trust  to  me,  and  you  shall  traverse  it  in 
safety,"  said  Humphrey  Chetham. 

"  I  would  sooner  trust  myself  to  the  pursui- 
vant and  his  band,  than  venture  upon  its  treach- 
erous surface,"  she  replied. 

"  How  is  this,  young  sir,"  interposed  Guy 
Fawkes,  sternly.  "  Is  it  from  jieedlessness  or 
rashness  that  you  are  about  to  expose  us  to 
this  new  danger  ? — which,  if  Miss  Radeliffe 
judges  correctly,  and  my  own  experience  of 
such  places  inclines  me  to  think  siie  does  so, 
— is  greater  than  that  which  now  besets  us." 

"  If  there  is  any  danger,  I  shall  be  tlie  first 
to  encounter  it,  for  I  propose  to  act  as  guide," 
returned  Humphrey  Chetliam,  in  an  offended 
tone.  "  But  the  treacherous  character  of  the 
marsh  constitutes  our  safety.  I  am  acriuainted 
with  a  narrow  path  across  it,  from  which  the 
deviation  of  a  foot  will  bring  certain  death.  If 
our  pursuers  attempt  to  follow  us,  their  de- 
struction is  inevitable.  Miss  Radeliffe  may 
rest  assured  that  I  would  not  needlessly  expose 
so  dear  a  life  as  hers.  But  it  is  our  best  chance 
of  safety." 

"  Master  Chetham  is  in  the  right,"  observed 
the  priest.  "  I  have  heard  of  tlie  path  he  de- 
scribes ;  and  if  he  can  guide  us  along  it,  we 
shall  effectually  baffle  our  enemies." 

"  I  cry  you  mercy,  sir,"  said  Viviana.  "  I 
did  not  apprehend  your  meaning.  But  I  now 
thankfully  resign  myself  to  your  care." 

"  Forward,  then,"  cried  the  young  mer- 
chant. And  they  dashed  swiRly  down  the 
declivity. 

Chat  .Moss,  towards  which  they  were  hast- 
ening, though  now  drained,  in  part  cultivated, 
and  traversed  liy  the  busiest  and  most-fre- 
quented rail-road  in  England,  or  the  world, 
■was,  within  the  recollection  of  many  of  the 
youngest  of  the  present  generation,  a  dreary 
and  almost  impassable  waste.  Surveyed  from 
the  heights  of  Dunham,  whence  the  writer 


has  oflen  gazed  upon  it,  envying  the  plover  her 
wing  to  skiin  over  its  broad  expanse,  it  pre- 
sented, with  its  bliicli  boggy  soil,  striped  like 
a  motley  garment,  witli  patches  of  grey,  taw- 
ny, and  dumiisli  red,  a  singular  and  mysterious 
appearance.  C'onjceture  tixes  this  morass  as 
tlie  site  of  a  vast  forest,  whose  imniciiiorial  and 
Druid-haunted  groves  were  burnt  by  the  Ro- 
man invaders ;  and  seeks  to  account  for  its 
present  condition  by  supposing  that  the  charred 
trees — still  frequently  found  within  its  depths 
— being  lefl  where  the  conflagration  had  placed 
them,  had  choked  up  its  brooks  and  springs, 
and  so  reduced  it  to  a  general  swamp.  Dray- 
ton, however,  in  the  following  lines  from  the 
Faerie  Land,  places  its  origin  as  far  back  as 
the  Deluge ; 

Great  Chat  Mnss  at  my  fall 

Lies  full  of  turf  and  marl,  licr  uiicIudus  mineral; 
And  blocks  as  black  as  pitch,  with  boring  augers 

fouird 
There  at  the  General  Flood  supposed  to  be  drown'd. 

But  the  former  hypothesis  appears  the  more 
probable.  A  curious  description  of  Chat  Moss, 
as  it  appeared  at  tiie  time  of  tliis  history,  is 
furnished  by  Camden,  who  terms  it  "  a 
swampy  tract,  of  great  extent,  a  considerable 
part  of  which  was  carried  off  in  the  last  age 
by  swollen  rivers,  with  great  danger,  whereby 
the  rivers  were  infected,  and  great  quantities 
of  fish  died.  Instead  thereof,  is  now  a  valley 
watered  by  a  small  stream,  and  many  trees 
were  discovered  thrown  down,  and  lying  fiat, 
so  that  one  may  suppose  when  the  ground  lay 
neglected,  and  the  waste  water  of  brooks  was 
not  drained  olT  into  the  open  valleys,  or  their 
courses  stopped  by  neglect  or  desolation,  all 
the  lower  grounds  were  turned  into  swamps, 
(which  we  call  mosses),  or  into  pools.  If  this 
was  the  case,  no  wonder  so  many  i-ces  are 
found  covered,  and  as  it  were,  buried  in  such 
places  all  over  Enghmd,  but  especially  here. 
For  the  roots  being  loosened  by  too  excessive 
wet,  they  must  necessarily  fall  down  and  sink 
in  so  soft  a  soil.  1"he  people  hereabouts  search 
for  them  with  poles  and  sjiits,  and  after  mark- 
ing the  place,  dig  them  up,  and  use  them  for 
firing,  for  they  are  like  toiehes,  equally  fit  to 
burn  and  to  give  light,  whieii  is  probably  owing 
to  the  bituminous  eailh  that  surrounds  them, 
whence  the  common  people  suppose  them  firs, 
though  Cffisar  denies  that  theie  were  such 
trees  in  Britain." 

But,  though  vast  masses  of  the  bog  had  been 
carried  off  by  the  Irwell  and  the  Mersey,  as 
related  by  Camden,  the  general  ajipearance  of 
the  waste, — with  the  exception  of  the  valley 
and  the  small  stream, — was  much  the  same  as 
it  continued  to  our  own  time.  Its  surface  was 
more  broken  and  irregular,  and  black-gaping 
chasms  and  pits,  filled  with  water  and  slime 
as  dark-coloured  as  the  turf  from  whieli  it 
flowed,  pointed  out  the  spots  where  the  swollen 
and  heaving  swamp  had  burst  its  bondage. 
Narrow  paths,  known  only  to  the  poor  turf- 
cutters,  and  other  labourers,  who  dwelt  upon 
its  borders,  and  gathered  fuel  in  the  manner 
above  described,  intersected  it  at  various  points. 
But,  as  they  led  in  many  cases  to  dangerous 


GUY    FAWKES. 


29 


and  deep  pnlfs,  to  dismal  qnajmires,  and  fath- 
omless pits ;  and,  moreover,  as  the  slightest 
departure  from  tlie  proper  track  would  have 
whelmed  the  traveller  in  an  oozy  bed,  from 
which,  as  from  a  quicksand,  he  would  have 
vainly  striven  to  extricate  himself,  —  it  was 
never  crossed  without  a  guide,  except  by  those 
familiar  with  its  perilous  courses.  One  pain- 
ful circumstance  connected  with  the  history  of 
Chat  Moss  remains  to  be  mentioned,  namely, 
that  the  attempt  made  to  cultivate  it  by  the 
great  historian,  Roscoe,  —  an  attempt  since 
carried  out,  as  has  already  been  shown,  with 
complete  success, — ended  in  a  result  ruinous 
to  the  fortunes  of  that  highly-gifted  person, 
who,  up  to  the  period  of  this  luckless  under- 
taking, was  as  prosperous  as  he  was  meri- 
torious. 

By  this  time,  the  fugitives  had  approached 
the  confines  of  the  marsh.  An  accident,  how- 
ever, had  just  occurred,  which  nearly  proved 
fatal  to  Viviana,  and,  owing  to  the  delay  it  oc- 
casioned, brought  their  pursuers  into  danger- 
ous proximity  with  them.  In  fording  the  Ir- 
well,  whjch,  from  its  devious  course,  they  were 
again  compelled  to  cross,  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  below  Barton,  her  horse  missed  its  foot- 
ing, and  precipitated  her  into  the  rapid  current. 
In  another  instant,  she  would  have  been  borne 
away,  if  Guy  Fawkes  had  not  flung  himself 
into  the  stream,  and  seized  her  before  she  sank. 
Her  affrighted  steed,  having  got  out  of  its 
depth,  began  to  swim  off",  and  it  required  the 
utmost  exertion  on  the  part  of  Humphrey 
Chethani,  embarrassed  as  he  was  by  the  priest, 
to  secure  it.  In  a  few  minutes,  all  was  set  to 
right,  and  Viviana  was  once  more  placed  on 
the  saddle,  without  having  sustained  farther 
inconvenience  than  was  occasioned  by  her 
dripping  appuel.  But  those  few  minutes,  as 
has  been  just  stated,  sufficed  to  bring  the  pur- 
suivant and  his  men  close  upon  them;  and,  as 
they  scrambled  up  the  opposite  bank,  the 
plunging  and  shouting  behind  them  told  that 
the  litter  had  entered  the  stream. 

"  Yonder  is  Baysnape,"  exclaimed  Hum- 
phrey Chetham,  calling  Viviana's  attention  to 
a  ridge  of  high  ground  on  tiie  borders  of  the 
waste.  "Below  it  lies  the  path  by  which  I 
propose  to  enter  the  moss.  We  shall  speedily 
be  out  of  the  reach  of  our  enemies." 

"  The  marsh  will  at  least  hide  us,"  answer- 
ed Viviana,  with  a  shudder.  "  It  is  a  terrible 
alternative." 

"  Fear  nothing,  dear  daughter,"  observed 
the  priest.  "  The  saints  who  have  thus  mar- 
vellously protected  us,  will  continue  to  watch 
over  us  to  the  end,  and  will  make  the  path 
over  yon  perilous  waste  as  safe  as  the  ground 
on  which  we  tread." 

"  I  lilce  not-the  appearance  of  the  sky,"  ob- 
served Guy  Fawkes,  looking  uneasily  upwards. 
"  Before  we  reach  the  spot  you  hav<!  pointed 
out,  the  moon  will  be  obscured.  Will  it  be 
safe  to  traverse  the  moss  in  the  dark  ?" 

"It  is  our  only  chance,"  re[)licd  the  young 

merchant,   speaking   in  a  low   tone,  that  his 

answer  might  not  reach  Viviana's  ears  ;  "  and 

after    all,    the    darkness  may   be  serviceable. 

3* 


Our  pursuers  are  so  near,  that  if  it  were  less 
gloomy,  they  might  hit  upon  the  right  track. 
It  will  be  a  risk  to  us  to  proceed,  but  certain 
destruction  to  those  who  follow.  And  now 
let  us  make  what  haste  we  can.  Every  mo- 
ment is  precious." 

I'he  dreary  and  fast-darkenmg  waste  had 
now  opened  upon  them  in  all  its  '-.errors.  Far 
as  the  gaze  could  reach  appeared  an  immense 
expanse,  flat  almost,  as  the  surliiee  of  the  ocean, 
and  unmarked,  so  far  as  could  be  discerned 
in  that  doubtful  light,  by  any  trace  of  human 
footstep,  or  habitation.  It  was  a  stern  and 
sombre  prospect,  and  calculated  to  inspire  ter- 
ror in  the  stoutest  bosom.  What  efTeet  it 
produced  on  Viviana  may  be  easily  conjectured. 
But  her  nature  was  brave  and  enduring,  and, 
though  she  trembled  so  violently  as  scarcely 
to  be  able  to  keep  her  seat,  she  gave  no  utter- 
ance to  her  fears.  They  were  now  skirting 
that  part  of  the  morass,  since  denominated, 
from  the  unfortunate  speculation  already  al- 
luded to,  "  Roscoe's  Improvements."  This 
tract  was  the  worst  and  most  dangerous  por- 
tion of  the  whole  moss.  Soft,  slabby,  and  un- 
substantial, its  treacherous  beds  scarcely  ofier- 
ed  secure  footing  to  the  heron  that  alighted 
on  them.  The  ground  shook  beneath  the 
fugitives  as  they  hurried  past  the  edge  of  the 
groaning  and  quivering  marsh.  The  plover, 
scared  (rom  its  nest,  uttered  its  peculiar  and 
plaintive  cry;  the  bittern  shrieked;  other 
night-fowl  poured  forth  their  doleful  notes ; 
and  the  bull-frog  added  its  deep  croak  to  the 
ominous  concert.  Behind  them  came  the  thun- 
dering tramp  and  loud  shouts  of  their  pur- 
suers. Guy  Fawkes  had  judged  correctly. 
Before  they  reached  Baysnape  the  moon  had 
withdrawn  behind  a  rack  of  clouds,  and  it  had 
beco.'ne  profoundly  dark.  Arrived  at  this  point, 
Humphrey  Chetham  called  to  them  to  turn 
off  to  the  right. 

"  Follow  singly,"  he  said,  "  and  do  not 
swerve  a  hair's  breadth  from  the  path.  The 
slightest  deviation  will  be  fatal.  Do  you,  sir," 
he  added  to  the  priest,  "  mount  behind  Guy 
Fawkes,  and  let  Miss  Radcliffe  come  next  after 
me.  If  I  should  miss  my  way,  do  not  stir  for 
your  life." 

The  transfer  effected,  the  fugitives  turned 
off  to  the  right,  and  proceeded  at  a  cautious 
pace  along  a  narrow  and  shaking  path.  The 
ground  trembled  so  much  beneath  them,  and 
their  horses'  feet  sank  so  deeply  in  the  plashy 
bog,  that  Viviana  demanded,  in  a  tone  of  some 
uneasiness,  if  he  was  sure  he  liad  taken  the 
right  course  ? 

"  If  I  had  not,"  replied  Humphrey  Chetham, 
"  we  should  ere  this  have  found  our  way  to 
the  bottom  of  the  morass." 

As  he  spoke,  a  floundering  plunge,  accom- 
panied by  a  horrible  and  quickly-stifled  cry, 
told  that  one  of  their  pursuers  had  perished 
in  endeavouring  to  follow  them. 

"  One  poor  wretch  is  gone  to  his  account," 
observed  Viviana,  in  a  tone  of  commiseration. 
"  Have  a  care  ! — have  a  care.  Master  Chetham, 
lest  you  share  the  same  fate." 

"  if  I  can  save  you,  I  care  not  what  be- 


30 


GUY    FAWKES. 


somes  of  me,"  replied  the  young  mercliant. 
"Since  I  can  never  hope  to  possess  you,  life 
has  become  valueless  in  my  eyes." 

"Quicken  your  pace,  Master  Chetham," 
shouted  Guy  Fawkes,  wlio  brought  up  llic 
rear.  "Our  pursuers  have  discovered  the 
track,  and  are  making  towards  us." 

"  Let  them  do  so,"  rephed  the  young  mer- 
chant.    "  They  can  do  us  no  farther  injury." 

"That  is  falee  I"  cried  the  voice  of  a  soldier 
from  behind.  And  as  the  words  were  uttered 
a  shot  was  fired,  vvhicii,  though  aimed  against 
Chetham,  took  efFect  upon  his  steed.  The 
animal  staggered,  and  liis  rider  had  only  time 
to  slide  from  liis  back  when  he  reeled  off  the 
path,  and  was  ingulfed  in  the  marsh. 

Hearing  the  plunge  of  tlie  steed,  the  man 
fancied  he  had  hit  his  mark,  and  hallooed  in 
an  exulting  voice  to  his  companions.  But  his 
triumph  was  of  short  duration.  A  ball  from 
the  petronel  of  Guy  Fawkes  pierced  liis  brain, 
and  dropping  from  his  saddle,  he  sank,  toge- 
ther with  his  horse,  which  he  dragged  along 
with  him  into  the  quagmire. 

"  Waste  no  more  shot,"  cried  Humphrey 
Chetham;  "the  swamp  will  fight  our  battles 
for  us.  Though  I  grieve  for  the  loss  of  my 
faithful  horse,  I  may  be  better  able  to  guide 
you  on  foot." 

With  this,  he  seized  Viviana's  bridle,  and 
drew  her  steed  along  at  a  quick  pace,  but 
with  the  greatest  caution.  As  they  proceeded, 
a  light  like  that  of  a  lantern  was  seen  to  rise 
from  the  earth,  and  approach  them. 

"  Heaven  be  praised  I"  exclaimed  Viviana. 
"  Some  one  has  heard  us,  and  is  hastening  to 
our  assistance." 

"Not  so,"  replied  Humphrey  Chetham. 
"The  light  you  behold  is  an  ignis  fatinjs. 
Were  you  to  trust  yourself  to  its  delusive 
gleam,  it  would  lead  you  to  the  most- danger- 
ous parts  of  the  moss." 

And,  as  if  to  exhibit  its  real  character,  the 
little  flame,  which  hitherto  had  burnt  as 
brightly  and  steadily  as  a  wax-candle,  sud- 
denly appeared  to  dilate,  and  assuming  a  purple 
tinge,  emitted  a  shower  of  sparks,  and  then 
flitted  rapidly  over  the  plain. 

"  Woe  to  him  that  follows  it !"  cried  Hum- 
phrey Chetham. 

"  It  has  a  strange  unearthly  look,"  observed 
Viviana,  crossing  herself.  "  I  have  much  dif. 
ficulty  in  persuading  myself  it  is  not  the  work 
of  some  malignant  sprite." 

"  It  is  only  an  exhalation  of  the  marsh," 
replied  Chetham.  "  But,  see !  others  are  at 
hand." 

Their  approach,  indeed,  seemed  to  have  dis- 
turbed all  the  weird  children  of  the  waste. 
Lights  were  seen  trooping  towards  them  in 
every  direction ;  sometimes  stopping,  some- 
times rising  in  the  air, — now  contracting,  now 
expanding,  and  when  within  a  few  yards  of 
the  travellers,  retreating  with  inconceivable 
swiftness. 

"  It  is  a  marvellous  and  incomprehensible 
speclaclc,"  remarked  Viviana. 

"The  common  folk  hereabouts  affirm  that 
these  Jack-o'-lanterns,  as  they  term  them,  al- 


ways appear  in  greater  numbers  when  some 
direful  catastrophe  is  about  to  take  place,"  re- 
joined the  young  merchant. 

"  Heaven  avert  it  from  us !"  ejaculated  Vi- 
viana. 

"  It  is  an  idle  superstition,"  returned  Chet- 
ham. "  But  we  must  now  keej)  silence,"  he 
continued,  lowering  his  voice,  and  stopping 
near  the  charred  stump  of  a  tree,  left,  it  would 
seem,  as  a  mark.  "  The  road  turns  liere. 
And,  unless  our  pursuers  know  it,  we  shall 
now  quit  them  for  ever.  We  must  not  let  a 
sound  betray  the  course  we  are  aboul  to 
take." 

Having  turned  this  dangerous  corner  in 
safely,  and  conducted  his  companions  as  noise- 
lessly as  possible  for  a  few  yards  along  the 
cross  path,  which  being  much  narrower,  was 
consequently  more  perilous  than  tlie  first, 
Humphrey  Chetham  stood  still,  and,  imposing 
silence  upon  the  others,  listened  to  the  ap- 
proach of  their  pursuers.  His  prediction  was 
speedily  and  terribly  verified.  Hearing  the 
movement  in  advance,  but  unable  to  discover 
the  course  taken  by  the  fugitives,  the  unfortu- 
nate soldiers,  fearful  of  losing  their  prey,  quick- 
ened their  pace,  in  the  expectation  of  instantly 
overtaking  them.  They  were  fatally  unde- 
ceived. Four  only  of  their  number,  besides 
their  leader,  remained, — two  having  perished 
in  the  manner  heretofore  described.  The  first 
of  these,  disregarding  the  caution  of  his  com- 
rade, laughingly  urged  his  horse  into  a  gallop, 
and,  on  passing  the  mark,  sunk  as  if  by  ma- 
gic, and  before  he  could  utter  a  single  warning 
cry,  into  the  depths  of  the  morass.  His  dis- 
appearance was  so  instantaneous,  that  the  next 
in  order,  though  he  heard  the  sullen  plunge, 
was  imable  to  draw  in  the  rein,  and  was  like- 
wise ingulfed.  A  third  followed  ;  and  a  fourth, 
in  his  efforts  to  avoid  their  fate,  backed  his 
steed  over  the  slippery  edge  of  the  path.  Only 
one  now  remained.  This  was  the  pursuivant, 
who,  with  the  prudence  that  characterised  all 
his  proceedings,  had  followed  in  the  rear.  He 
was  so  dreadfully  frightened,  that,  adding  his 
shrieks  to  those  of  his  attendants,  he  shouted 
to  the  fugitives,  imploring  assistance  in  the 
most  piteous  terms,  and  promising  never  again 
to  molest  them,  if  they  would  guide  him  to  a 
place  of  safety.  But  his  cries  were  wholly 
unheeded.  And  he  perhaps  endured  in  those 
few  minutes  of  agony  as  much  suffering  as  he 
had  inflicted  on  the  numerous  victims  of  his 
barbarity.  It  was  indeed  an  appalling  mo- 
ment. Three  of  the  wretched  men  had  not 
yet  sunk,  but  were  floundering  about  in  the 
swamp,  and  shrieking  for  hel[).  The  horses, 
as  much  terrified  as  their  riders,  added  their 
piercing  cries  to  the  Inill-sun'oeated  yells  of 
their  riders.  And,  as  if  to  make  the  scene 
more  ghastly,  myriads  of  dancing  lights  flitted 
towards  them,  and  throwing  an  unearthly 
glimmer  over  this  part  of  the  morass,  fully 
revealed  their  struggling  figures.  Moved  by 
compassion  for  the  poor  wretches,  Viviana  im- 
plored Humphrey  C'lietliam  to  assist  them  ; 
and  finding  him  immoveable,  she  appealed  to 
Guy  Fawkes. 


GUY    FAWKES. 


31 


"  They  are  beyond  all  human  aid,"  the  latter 
replied. 

"  Heaven  have  mercy  on  their  souls  !"  eja- 
culated the  priest.  "  Pray  for  them,  dear  daujrh- 
ter.  Pray  heartily,  as  I  am  about  to  do."  And 
lie  recited  in  an  audible  voice  the  Romish  for- 
mula of  supplication  for  tiiose  in  extremis. 

Averting  her  gaze  from  the  spectacle,  Vivi- 
ana  joined  fervently  in  the  prayer. 

By  this  time  two  of  the  strugglcrs  had  dis- 
appeared. The  third,  having  freed  himself 
from  his  horse,  contrived  for  some  moments, 
during  which  he  uttered  the  most  frightful 
cries,  to  keep  his  head  above  the  swamp.  His 
eiForts  were  tremendous,  but  unavaihng;  and 
served  only  to  accelerate  his  fate.  Making  a 
last  desperate  plunge  towards  the  bank  wiiere 
the  fugitives  were  standing,  he  sank  above  the 
chin.  The  expression  of  his  face,  shown  by 
the  ghastly  glimmer  of  the  fen-fires,  as  he  was 
gradually  swallowed  up,  was  horrible. 

"  Requiem  cEternam  dona  eis,  Domine,"  cried 
the  priest. 

"  All  is  over,"  said  Humphrey  Chetham, 
taking  the  bridle  of  Viviana's  steed,  and  lead- 
ing her  onwards.  "  We  are  free  from  our  pur- 
suers." 

"  There  is  one  left,"  she  cried,  casting  a  look 
backwards. 

"  It  is  the  pursuivant,"  returned  Guy  Fawkes, 
sternly.  "  He  is  within  shot,"  he  added,  draw- 
ing his  petroriel. 

"Oh,  no — no  I — in  pity  spare  him  I"  cried 
Viviana.  "  Too  many  lives  have  been  sacri- 
ficed already." 

"  He  is  the  cause  of  all  the  mischief,"  said 
Guy  Fawkes,  unwillingly  replacing  tlie  petro- 
nel  in  his  belt,  "  and  may  live  to  injure  you 
and  your  father." 

"  I  will  hope  not,"  rejoined  Viviana  ;  "  but, 
spare  him  I — oh,  spare  him." 

"  Be  it  as  you  please,"  replied  Guy  Fawkes. 
"  The  marsh,  I  trust,  will  not  be  so  merciful." 

With  this,  they  slowly  resumed  their  pro- 
gress. On  hearing  their  departure,  the  pur- 
suivant renewed  his  cries  in  a  more  piteous 
tone  than  ever ;  but,  in  spite  of  the  entreaties 
of  Viviana,  nothTng  could  induce  her  compa- 
nioHs  to  lend  him  assistance. 

For  some  time,  they  proceeded  in  silence, 
and  without  accident.  As  they  advanced,  the 
difficulties  of  the  path  increased,  and  it  was 
fortunate  that  the  moon,  emerging  froi7i  tlie 
clouds  in  which,  up  to  this  moment,  she  had 
been  shrouded,  enabled  them  to  steer  their 
course  in  safety.  At  length,  after  a  tedious 
and  toilsome  march  for  nearly  half  a  mile,  the 
footing  became  more  secure ;  the  road  widen- 
ed ;  and  tliey  were  able  to  quicken  tlieir  pace. 
Another  half  mile  landed  them  upon  the  west- 
ern bank  of  the  morass.  Viviana's  first  im- 
pulse was  to  give  thanks  to  Heaven  for  their 
deliverance ;  nor  did  she  omit  in  her  prayer  a 


supplication  for  the  unfortunate  beings  who 
had  perished. 

Arrived  at  the  point  now  known  as  Rawson 
Nook,  they  entered  a  lane,  and  proceeded  to- 
wards Astley  Green,  wiiere  perceiving  a  cluster 
of  thatched  cottages  among  the  trees,  they 
knocked  at  the  door  of  the  first,  and  speedily 
obtained  admittance  from  its  inmates — a  turf- 
cutter  and  his  wife.  'I'he  man  conveyed  their 
steeds  to  a  neighbouring  barn,  wliile  the  good 
dame  offered  Viviana  sucii  accommodation  and 
refreshment  as  her  humble  dwelling  afforded. 
Here  they  tarried  till  the  following  evening,  as 
much  to  recruit  Miss  Radcliffc's  strength,  as 
for  security. 

At  the  young  merchant's  request,  the  turf 
cutter  went  in  the  course  of  the  day  to  see 
what  had  become  of  the  pursuivant.  He  was 
nowhere  to  be  found.  But  he  accidentally 
learnt  from  another  hind,  who  followed  the 
same  occupation  as  himself,  tiiat  a  person  an- 
swering to  the  officer's  description  had  been 
seen  to  emerge  from  the  moss  near  Baysnape 
at  daybreak,  and  take  the  road  towards  Man- 
ciiester.  Of  the  unfortunate  soldiers  nothing 
but  a  steel  cap  and  a  pike,  which  the  man 
brought  away  with  him,  could  be  discovered. 

After  much  debate,  it  was  decided  that  their 
safest  plan  would  be  to  proceed  to  Manchester, 
where  Humphrey  Chetham  undertook  to  pro- 
cure them  safe  lodgings  at  the  Seven  Stars, — 
an  excellent  hostel,  kept  by  a  worthy  widow, 
wlio,  he  affirmed,  would  do  anything  to  serve 
him.  Accordingly,  they  set  out  at  night- 
fall,—Viviana  taking  her  place  before  Guy 
Fawkes,  and  relinquishing  Zayda  to  the  young 
merchant  and  the  priest.  Shaping  their  course 
through  Worsley,  by  Monton  Green  and  Pen- 
dleton, they  arrived  in  about  an  hour  within 
sight  of  the  town,  which  then — not  a  tithe  of 
its  present  size,  and  unpolluted  by  the  smoky 
atmosphere  in  which  it  is  now  constantly 
enveloped, — was  not  without  some  pretensions 
to  a  picturesque  appearance.  Crossing  Sal- 
ford  Bridge,  they  mounted  Smithy  Bank,  as  it 
was  then  termed,  and  proceeding  along  (^at- 
eaton  Street  and  Hanging  Ditch,  struck  into 
Whithing  (now  Withy)  Grove,  at  the  right  of 
which,  just  where  a  few  houses  were  begin- 
ning to  straggle  up  Shude  Hill,  stood,  and 
still  stands,  the  comfortable  hostel  of  the  Seven 
Stars.  Here  they  stopped,  and  were  warmly 
welcomed  by  its  buxom  mistress,  Dame  Sut- 
cliffe.  MufHed  in  Guy  Fawkcs's  cloak,  the 
priest  gained  the  chamber  to  which  he  was 
ushered  unobserved.  And  Dame  Sutcliffc, 
though  her  Protestant  notions  were  a  little 
scandalized  at  her  dwelling  being  made  the 
sanctuary  of  a  Popish  priest,  promised,  at  the 
instance  of  Master  Chetham,  whom  she  knew 
to  be  no  favourer  of  idolatry  in  a  general  way, 
to  be  answerable  for  his  safety. 


32 


GUY    FAWKES. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


THE  DISINTERMENT. 


Having  seen  every  attention  that  circum- 
stances would  admit  shown  to  Viviana  by  the 
liosless,  —  wiio,  as  soon  as  she  discovered  that 
she  had  the  daiiirhtcr  of  Sir  William  Rud- 
cliffe  of  Ordsall  under  lier  roof,  bestirred  her- 
self in  right  earnest  for  her  accommodation, — 
Humphrey  Chetham,  notwithstanding-  the  late- 
ness  of  the  hour, — it  was  past  midnight, — ex- 
pressed liis  duterminalion  to  walk  to  his  resi- 
dence at  ("rumpsail,  to  put  an  end  to  any 
apprehension  whicli  might  be  entertained  by 
the  household  at  his  prolonged  absence.  Witii 
this  view,  he  set  forth  :  and  Guy  Fawkes,  who 
seemed  to  be  meditating  some  project  which 
lie  was  unwilling  to  disclose  to  the  otiiers, 
quilted  the  hostel  with  him,  bidding  the  cham- 
berlain sit  up  for  him,  as  he  should  speedily 
return.  They  had  not  gone  far  when  he  in- 
quired the  nearest  way  to  the  Collegiate 
Church,  and  was  answered  that  they  were 
then  proceeding  towards  it,  and  in  a  few  mo- 
ments should  arrive  at  its  walls.  He  next 
asked  the  young  merchant  whether  he  could 
inform  him  which  part  of  the  churchyard  was 
allotted  to  criminals.  Humjihrey  Chetham 
was  somewhat  suri)rised  by  the  question,  but 
replied,  "  At  the  north-west,  near  the  charnel ;" 
abiding,  "  I  shall  pass  within  a  short  distance 
of  the  spot,  and  will  point  it  out  to  you." 

Entering  Fennel  Street,  at  the  end  of  which 
stood  an  ancient  cross,  they  soon  came  in 
sight  of  the  church.  The  moon  was  shining 
brightly,  and  silvered  its  massive  square  tower, 
its  battlements,  pinnacles,  buttresses,  and  noble 
eastern  window,  with  its  gorgeous  tracery. 
Wliile  Guy  Fawkes  paused  for  a  moment  to 
contemplate  this  reverend  and  beautiful  struc- 
ture, two  venerable  personages,  having  long 
snowy  beards,  and  wrapped  in  flowing  man- 
tles edged  with  sable  fur,  passed  the  end  of 
the  street.  One  of  them  carried  a  lantern, 
though  it  was  wholly  needless,  as  it  was  bright 
as  day,  and  as  they  glided  stealthily  along, 
there  was  something  so  mysterious  in  their 
manner,  that  it  greatly  excited  the  curiosity 
of  Guy  Fawkes,  who  inquired  from  his  com- 
panion if  he  knew  who  they  were. 

"  The  foremost  is  the  warden  of  Manches- 
ter, the  famous  Doctor  Dee,"  replied  Hum- 
phrey Chetham,  "divine,  mathematician,  as- 
trologer,—  and,  if  report  speaks  truly,  con- 
juror." 


"  Is  that  Doctor  Dee  ?"  cried  Guy  P^awkes, 
in  astonislunent. 

"  It  is,"  replied  the  young  merchant;  "  and 
the  other  in  the  Polish  cap  is  the  no  less  cele- 
brated Edward  Kelley,  the  doctor's  assistant, 
or  as  he  is  ordinarily  termed,  his  seer." 

"  They  have  entered  the  churchyard,"  re- 
marked  Guy  Fawkes.     "  I  will  follow  them." 

"  I  would  not  advise  you  to  do  so,"  rejoined 
the  other.  "Strange  tales  are  told  of  them. 
You  may  witness  that  which  it  is  not  aafe  to 
look  upon." 

The  caution,  however,  was  unheeded.  Guy 
Fawkes  had  already  disappeared,  and  the 
young  merchant,  shrugging  liis  shoulders, 
proceeded  on  liis  way  towards  Hunt's  Bank. 

On  gaining  the  churchyard,  Guy  Fawkes 
perceived  the  warden  and  his  companion 
creeping  stealthily  beneath  the  shadow  of  a 
wall  in  the  direction  of  a  low  fabric,  which 
appeared  to  be  a  bone-house,  or  charnel,  situa- 
ted at  the  north-western  extremity  of  the 
church.  Before  this  building  grew  a  black 
and  stunted  yew-tree.  Arrived  at  it,  they 
paused,  and  looked  round  to  see  whether  they 
were  observed.  They  did  not,  however,  notice 
Guy  Fawkes,  who  had  concealed  himself  be- 
hind a  buttress.  Kelley  then  unlocked  the 
door  of  the  cliarnel,  and  hrouglit  out  a  |)ickase 
and  mattock.  Having  divest(d  himself  of  his 
cloak,  he  proceeded  to  shovel  out  the  mould 
from  a  new-made  grave  at  a  little  distance 
from  the  building.  Doctor  Dee  stood  by,  and 
held  the  lantern  for  his  assistant.  Determined 
to  watch  llieir  proceedings,  Guy  Fawkes  crept 
towards  the  yew-tree,  behind  which  he  en- 
sconced himself.  Kelley,  tneamvhile,  con- 
tinued to  ply  his  spade  with  a  vigour  that 
seemed  almost  incomprehensible  in  one  so  far- 
stricken  in  years,  and  of  such  intirm  appear- 
ance. At  length,  he  paused,  and  kneeling 
within  the  shallow  grave,  endeavoured  to  drag 
something  I'rom  it.  Doctor  Dee  knelt  to  as- 
sist liim.  After  some  exertion,  they  drew  forth 
the  corpse  of  a  female,  which  had  been  inter- 
red without  coffin,  and  apparently  in  the  habili- 
ments worn  during  life.  A  horrible  suspicion 
crossed  Guy  Fawkes.  Resolving  to  satisfy  his 
doubts  at  once,  he  rushed  forward,  ami  bebeld 
in  the  ghastly  lineaments  of  the  dead  the  fea- 
tures of  the  unfortunate  prophetess,  Elizabeth 
Orton. 


GUY    FAWKES. 


33 


CHAPTER  VII. 


DOCTOR  DEE. 


"  How  now,  ye  impious  violators  of  the 
tomb  !  ye  worse  than  famine-stricken 
wolves,  that  rake  up  the  dead  in  church- 
yards?" cried  Guy  Fawkes,  in  a  voice  of 
thunder,  to  Doctor  Dee  and  his  companion; 
who,  startled  by  his  sudden  appearance, 
dropped  the  body,  and  retreated  to  a  short 
distance.  "  VVliat  devilish  rites  are  ye 
about  to  enact,  that  ye  thus  profane  the 
sanctity  of  the  grave?" 

"And  who  art  thou  that  darest  thus  to 
interrupt  US'*"  demanded  Doctor  Dee, 
sternly. 

"  It  matters  not,"  rejoined  Fawkes, 
striding  towards  them.  "Suffice  it  you 
are  both  known  to  me.  You,  John  Dee, 
warden  of  Manchester,  who  deserve  to  be 
burnt  at  the  stake  for  your  damnable  prac- 
tices, rather  than  hold  the  sacred  office  3'ou 
fill;  and  you,  Edward  Kelley,  his  asso- 
ciate, who  boast  of  familiar  intercourse 
with  demons,  and,  unless  fame  l)e]ies  you, 
have  purchased  the  intimacy  at  the  price  of 
your  soul's  salvation.  1  know  you  both. 
I  know,  also,  whose  body  you  have  dis- 
interred— it  is  that  of  the  ill-fated  pro- 
phetess, Elizabeth  Orton.  And,  if  you  do 
not  instantly  restore  it  to  the  grave  whence 
you  have  snatched  it,  I  will  denounce  you 
to  the  authorities  of  the  town." 

"  Knowing  thus  much,  you  should  know 
still  more," retorted  Doctor  Dee,  "namely, 
that  1  am  not  to  be  lightly  provoked.  You 
have  no  power  to  quit  the  churchyard  — 
nay,  not  so  much  as  to  move  a  limb  with- 
out my  permission." 

As  he  spoke,  he  drew  from  beneath  his 
cloak,  a  small  phial,  the  contents  of  which 
he  sprinkled  over  the  intruder.  Its  effect 
was  wonderful  and  instantaneous.  The 
limbs  of  Guy  Fawkes  stiffened  where  he 
stood.  His  hand  remained  immovably 
fixed  upon  the  pommel  of  his  sword,  and  he 
seemed  transforiiiod  into  a  marble  statue. 

"You  will  henceforth  acknowledge  and 
respect  my  power,"  he  continued.  "Were 
it  my  pleasure,  I  could  bury  you  twenty 
fathoms  deep  in  the  earth  beneath  our 
feet;  or,  by  invoking  certain  spirits,  con- 
vey you  to  the  summit  of  yon  lofty 
tower,"  pointing  to  the  church,  "and 
hurl  you  from  it  headlong.  But  I  content 
myself  with  depriving  you  of  motion, 
and  leave  you  in  possession  of  sight  and 
speech,  that  you  may  endure  the  torture 
of  witnessing  what  you  cannot  prevent." 

So  sayinnr,  he  was  about  to  return  to  the 
corpse  with  Kolley,  when  Guy  Fawkes 
exclaimed  in  a  hollow  voice, 


"Set  me  free  and  I  will  instantly  de- 
part." 

"  Will  you  swear  never  to  divulge  what 
you  have  seen]"  demanded  Dee,  pausing. 

"Solemnly,"  he  replied. 

"  I  will  trust  you  then,"  rejoined  the 
Doctor; — "  the  rather  that  your  presence 
interferes  with  my  purpose." 

Taking  a  handful  of  loose  earth  from  an 
adjoining  grave,  and  muttering  a  few 
words,  that  sounded  like  a  charm,  he 
scattered  it  over  Fawkes.  The  spell  was 
instantly  broken.  A  leaden  weight  seem- 
ed to  be  removed  from  his  liijibs.  His 
joints  regained  their  suppleness,  and  with 
a  convulsive  start,  like  that  by  which  a 
dreamer  casts  off  a  nightmare,  he  was 
liberated  from  his  preternatural  thraldom. 

"And  now  begone!"  cried  Doctor  Dee, 
authoritatively. 

"  Suffer  me  to  tarry  with  you  a  few 
moments,"  said  Guy  Fawkes  in  a  defe- 
rential tone.  "  Heretofore,  I  will  freely 
admit,  I  regarded  you  as  an  impostor,  but 
now  I  am  convinced  you  are  deeply  skill- 
ed in  the  occult  sciences,  and  would  fain 
consult  you  on  the  future." 

"I  have  already  said  that  your  presence 
troubles  me,"  replied  Doctor  Dee.  "But 
if  you  will  to  call  upon  me  at  the  College 
to-morrow,  it  may  be,  I  will  give  you  fur- 
ther proofs  of  my  skill." 

"  Why  not  now,  reverend  sirl"  urged 
Fawkes.  "The  question  1  would  ask  is 
better  suited  to  this  dismal  spot,  and 
witching  hour,  than  to  daylight,  and  the 
walls  of  yoirr  study." 

"  Indeed  !"  exclaimed  Dee.  "  Your 
name?" 

"  Guy  Fawkes,"  replied  the  other. 

"Guy  Fawkes!"  echoed  the  Doctor, 
starting.  "  Nay,  then,  I  guess  the  nature 
of  the  question  you  would  ask." 

"Am  I  then  known  to  you,  reverend 
sirl"  inquired  Fawkes  uneasily. 

"As  well  as  to  yourself — nay,  better," 
answered  the  Doctor.  "  Bring  the  lantern 
hither,  Kelley,"  he  continued,  addressing 
his  companion.  "  Look!"  he  added,  ele- 
vating the  light  so  as  to  throw  it  upon  the 
countenance  of  Fawkes.  "It  is  the  very 
face — the  bronzed  and  strongly-marked 
features — the  fierce  black  eye — the  iron 
frame,  and  foreign  garb  of  the  figure  we 
beheld  in  the  show-stone." 

"  It  is,"  replied  Kelley.  "  I  could  have 
singled  him  out  amid  a  thousand.  He 
looked  thus  as  we  tracked  his  perilous 
course,   with    his   three  companions,  the 


34 


GUY    FAWKES. 


priest,  Chetham,  and  Viviana  Radcliffe,  I  vey  it  to  the  charnel.    Dee  followed,  bear- 


across  Chat  Moss 

"  How  have  you  learnt  thisi"  cried  Guy 
Fawkes,  in  amazement. 

*'  By  the  art  which  reveals  all  things," 
answered  Kelley. 

"  In  proof  that  your  thoughts  are  known 
to  me,"  observed  Dee,  "  I  will  tell  you  the 
inquiry  you  would  make  before  it  is  ut- 
tered. You  would  learn  whether  the  en- 
terprise on  which  you  are  engaged,  will 
succeed." 

"  I  would,"  replied  Fawkes. 
"  Yet  more,"  continued  the  Doctor. 
"I  am  aware  of  the  nature  of  the  plot,  and 
could  name  to  you  all  connected  with  it." 
"  Your  power  is,  indeed,  wonderful," 
rejoined  Fawkes,  in  an  altered  tone.  "  But 
will  you  give  me  the  information  I  re- 
quire!" 

"Hum!"  muttered  the  Doctor. 
"  I  am   too  poor  to  purchase  it,"  pro- 
ceeded Fawkes,  "unless  a  relic  which  1 
have  brought  from  Spain  has  any  value  in 
your  eyes." 

"Tush!"  exclaimed  Dee,  angrily.  "Do 
you  suppose  I  am  a  common  juggler,  and 
practice  my  art  for  gain]" 

"  By  no  means,  reverend  sir,"  said 
Fawkes.  "  But  I  would  not  willingly 
put  you  to  trouble  without  evincing  my 
gratitude," 

"Well  then,"  replied  the  Doctor,  "I 
will  not  refuse  your  request.  And  yet  I 
would  caution  you  to  beware  how  you  pry 
into  the  future.  You  may  repent  your 
rashness  when  it  is  too  late." 

"I  have  no  fear,"  rejoined  Fawkes. 
"Let  me  know  the  worst." 

"  Enough,"  said  Dee.  "  And  now 
listen  to  me.  That  carcase  having  been 
placed  in  the  ground  without  the  holy  rites 
of  burial  being  duly  performed,  1  have 
power  over  it.  And,  as  the  witch  of  En- 
dor  called  up  Samuel,  as  is  recorded  in 
Holy  Writ — as  Erichtho  raised  up  a  corpse 
to  reveal  to  Sextus  Pompeins  the  event  of 
the  Pharsalian  war — as  Elisha  breathed 
life  into  the  nostrils  of  the  Shunamite's 
son — as  Alcestis  was  invoked  by  Hercules 
— and  as  the  dead  maid  was  brought  back 
to  life  by  ApoUonius  Thyaneus — so  I,  by 
certain  powerful  incantations,  will  allure 
the  soul  of  the  prophetess  for  a  short  space 
to  its  former  tenement,  and  compel  it  to 
answer  my  questions.  Dare  you  be  pre- 
sent at  this  ceremony!" 
"  I  dare,"  replied  Fawkes. 
"  Follow  me,  then,"  said  Dee.  "  You 
will  need  all  your  courage." 

Muttering  a  hasty  prayer,  and  secretly 
crossing  himself,  Guy  Fawkes  strode  after 
him  towards  the  grave.  By  the  Doctor's 
directions,  he,  with  some  reluctance,  as- 
sisted Kelley  to  raise  the  corpse,  and  con- 


ing the  lantern;  and,  on  entering  the  build- 
ing, closed,  and  fastened  the  door. 

The  chamber  in  which  Guy  Fawkes 
found  himself  was  in  perfect  keeping  with 
the  horrible  ceremonial  about  to  be  per- 
formed. In  one  corner  lay  a  mouldering 
heap  of  skulls,  bones,  and  other  fragments 
of  moitality;  in  the  other  a  pile  of  broken 
coffins,  emptied  of  their  tenants,  and  reared 
on  end.  I3ut  what  chiefly  attracted  his 
attention,  was  a  ghastly  collection  of  hu- 
man limbs,  blackened  with  pitch,  girded 
round  with  iron  hoops,  and  hung,  like 
meat  in  a  shambles,  against  the  wall. 
There  were  two  heads,  and,  though  the 
features  were  scarcely  distinguishable 
owing  to  the  liquid  with  which  they  were 
saturated,  they  still  retained  a  terrific  ex- 
pression of  agony.  Seeing  his  attention 
directed  to  these  revolting  objects,  Jvelley 
informed  him  that  they  were  the  quarters 
of  the  two  priests  who  had  recently  been 
put  to  death,  which  had  been  left  there 
previously  to  being  placed  on  the  church- 
gates.  The  implements,  and  some  part 
of  the  attire  used  by  the  executioner  in  his 
butcherly  office,  were  scattered  about,  and 
mixed  with  the  tools  of  the  sexton;  while 
in  the  centre  of  the  room  stood  a  large 
wooden  frame  supported  by  trestles.  On 
this  frame,  stained  with  blood,  and  smear- 
ed with  pitch,  showing  the  purpose  to 
which  it  had  been  recently  put,  the  body 
was  placed.  This  done,  Doctor  Dee  set 
down  the  lantern  beside  it.  And,  as  the 
ligiit  fell  upon  its  livid  features,  sullied 
with  earth,  and  exhibiting  traces  of  decay, 
Guy  Fawkes  was  so  appalled  by  the  sight 
tliat  he  half  repented  of  what  he  had  un- 
dertaken. 

Noticing  his  irresolution.  Doctor   Dee 
said,  "  You  may  yet  retire  if  you  think 


propers 


"I  will 
And 


No,"  replied  Fawkes,  firmly, 
go  through  with  it." 

"It  is  well,"  replied  the  Doctor, 
he  extinguished  the  light. 

An  awful  silence  now  ensued,  broken 
only  by  a  low  murmur  from  Doctor  Dee, 
who  appeared  to  be  reciting  an  incantation. 
As  he  proceeded,  his  tones  became  louder, 
and  his  accents  those  of  command.  Sud- 
denly, he  paused,  and  seemed  to  await  a 
response.  But  as  none  was  made,  greatly 
to  the  disappointment  of  Guy  Fawkes, 
whose  curiosity,  notwithstanding  his  fears, 
was  raised  to  the  highest  pitch,  he  cried, 
"  Blood  is  wanting  to  complete  the  charm." 

"  If  that  is  all,  I  will  speedily  supply  the 
deficiency,"  replied  Guy  Fawkes.  And, 
drawing  his  rapier,  he  bared  his  left  arm, 
and  pricked  it  deeply  with  the  point  of  the 
weapon. 

"  1  bleed  now,"  he  cried. 


GUY    FAWKES. 


35 


"Sprinkle  the  corpse  with  the  ruddy 
current,"  said  Doctor  Dee. 

"Your  commands  are  obeyed,"  replied 
Fawkes.  "  I  have  placed  my  hand  on  its 
breast,  and  the  blood  is  flowing  upon  it." 

Upon  this,  the  Doctor  betjan  to  mutter 
an  incantation  in  a  louder  and  more  autho- 
ritative tone  than  before.  Presentl3^  Kelley 
added  his  voice,  and  they  both  joined  in  a 
sort  of  chorus,  but  a  jaroron  wliolly  unin- 
telligible to  Guy  Fawkes. 

All  at  once  a  blue  flame  appeared  above 
their  heads,  and,  slowly  descendinfj,  set- 
tled upon  the  brow  of  the  corpse,  lio-litintr 
up  the  sunken  cavities  of  the  eyes,  and  the 
discolored  and  distorted  features. 

"The  charm  works,"  shouted  Doctor 
Dee. 

"  She  moves'?  she  moves!"  exclaimed 
Guy  Fawkes.     "  She  is  alive." 

"  T^ke  off  your  hand,"  cried  the  Doctor, 
"or  mischief  may  befall  you."  And  he 
again  continued  his  incantation. 

"  Down  on  your  knees!"  he  exclaimed, 
at  length,  in  a  terrible  voice.  "  The  spir- 
it is  at  hand." 

There  was  a  rushing  sound,  and  a  stream 
of  dazzling  lightning  shot  down  upon 
the  corpse,  which  emitted  a  hollow  groan. 
In  obedience  to  the  Doctor's  commands, 
Guy  Fawkes  had  prostrated  himself  on  the 
ground,  but  he  kept  his  gaze  steadily 
fixed  on  the  body,  which  to  his  infinite  as- 
tonishment, slowly  arose,  until  it  stood 
erect  upon  tlie  frame.  There  it  remained 
perfectly  motionless,  with  the  arms  close 
to  the  sides,  and  the  habiliments  torn  and 
dishevelled.  The  blue  light  still  retained 
its  position  upon  the  brow,  and  communi- 
cated a  horrible  glimmer  to  the  features. 
The  spectacle  was  so  dreadful  that  Guy 
Fawkes  would  fain  have  averted  his  eyes, 
but  he  was  unat)le  to  do  so.  Doctor  Dee 
and  his  companion,  meanwhile,  continued 
their  invocations,  until,  as  it  seemed  to 
Fawkes,  the  lips  of  the  corpse  moved,  and 
an  awful  voice  exclaimed,  "  Why  have 
you  called  me]" 

"Daughter!"  replied  Doctor  Dee,  ris- 
ing, "  in  life  thou  wert  endowed  with  the 
gift  of  prophecy.  In  the  grave,  that  which 
is  to  come  must  be  revealed  to  thee.  We 
would  (]uestion  thee." 

"  Speak,  and  I  will  answer,"  replied  the 
corpse. 

"  Interrogate  her,  my  son,"  said  Dee, 
addressing  Fawkes,  "and  be  brief,  for  the 
time  is  short.  So  long  only  as  that  flame 
burns  have  I  power  over  her." 

"Spirit  of  Elizabeth  Orton,"  cried  Guy 
Fawkes,  "  if  indeed  thou  standest  before 
me,  and  some  demon  hath  not  entered  thy 
frame  to  delude  me — by  all  that  is  holy, 
and  by  every  blessed  saint,  I  adjure;  tiiee 
to  tell  me  whether  the  scheme  on  which  I 


am  now  engaged   for  the  advantage  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church  will  prosper'?" 

"Thou  art  mistaken.  Guy  Fawkes," 
returned  the  corpse.  "  That  scheme  is  not 
for  the  advantage  of  thy  Church." 

"I  will  not  pause  to  inquire  wherefore," 
continued  Fawkes.  "  But,  grant  that  the 
means  are  violent  and  wrongful,  will  the 
end  be  successful?" 

"  The  end  will  be  death,"  replied  the 
corpse. 

"To  the  tyrant — to  the  oppressors'?" 
demanded  Fawkes. 

"To  theconspirators,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Ha!"  ejaculated  Fawkes. 

"  Proceed,  if  you  have  aught  more  to 
ask,"  cried  Doctor  Dee.  "The  flame  is 
expiring." 

"  Shall  we  restore  the  fallen  religion'?" 
deinanded  Fawkes. 

But  before  the  words  could  be  pro- 
nounced the  light  vanished,  and  a  heavy 
sound  was  heard  as  of  the  body  falling  on 
the  frame. 

"  It  is  over,"  said  Doctor  Dee. 

"  Can  you  not  summon  her  again?" 
asked  Fawkes,  in  a  tone  of  deep  disap- 
pointment. "  I  had  other  questions  to 
ask." 

"Impossible,"  replied  the  Doctor.  "The 
spirit  is  fled,  and  will  not  be  recalled. 
We  must  now  commit  the  body  to  the 
earth.  And  this  time  it  shall  be  more 
decently  interred." 

"  My  curiosity  is  excited — not  satis- 
fied," said  Guy  Fawkes.  "Would  it 
were  to  occur  again!" 

"  It  is  ever  thus,"  replied  Doctor  Dee. 
"  We  seek  to  know  that  which  is  inter- 
dicted— and  quench  our  thirst  at  a  foun- 
tain which  only  inflames  our  curiosity  the 
more.  Be  warned,  my  son.  You  are 
embarked  on  a  perilous  enterprise,  and,  if 
you  pursue  it,  it  will  lead  you  to  certain 
destruction." 

"I  cannot  retreat,"  rejoined  Fawkes, 
"and  would  not  if  I  could.  I  am  bound 
by  an  oath  too  terrible  to  be  broken." 

"I  will  absolve  you  of  your  oath,  my 
son,"  said  Doctor  Dee  eagerly. 

"You  cannot,  reverend  sir,"  replied 
Fawkes.  "  By  no  sophistry  could  1  clear 
my  conscience  of  the  ties  imposed  upon 
it.  I  have  sworn  never  to  desist  from  the 
execution  of  this  scheme,  unless  those 
engaged  in  it  shall  give  me  leave.  Nay, 
so  resolved  am  I,  that  if  I  stood  alone  1 
would  go  on." 

As  he  spoke  a  deep  groan  issued  from 
the  corpse. 

"You  are  again  warned,  my  son,"  said 
Dee. 

"  Come  forth,"  said  Guy  Fawkes, 
rushing  towards  the  door  and  throwing  it 
open.     "  This  place  stifles  me." 


36 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


The  nig'ht  has  already  been  described 
as  bright  and  beautiful.  Before  him  stood 
the  Collegiate  bathed  in  moonlight.  He 
gazed  abstractedly  at  this  venerable  struc- 
ture for  a  few  moments,  and  then  returned 
to  the  charnel,  where  he  found  Doctor 
Dee  and  Kelley  employed  in  placing  the 
body  of  the  propiietess  in  a  coffin,  which 
they  had  taken  from  the  pile  in  the  corner. 
He  immediately  proffered  his  assistance, 
and  in  a  short  space  the  task  was  com- 
pleted. The  coffin  was  then  borne  to- 
wards the  grave,  at  the  edge  of  which  it 
was  laid  while  the  burial-service  was  re- 
cited by  Doctor  Dee.  This  ended,  it  was 
lowered  into  its  shallow  resting-place,  and 
speedily  covered  with  earth. 

When  all  was  ready  for  their  departure, 


the  Doctor  turned  to  Fawkes,  and  bidding 
him  farewell,  observed, 

"If  you  are  wise,  my  son,  you  will 
profit  by  the  awful  warning  you  have  this 
night  received." 

"  Before  we  part,  reverend  sir,"  replied 
Fawkes,  "  I  would  ask  if  you  know  of 
other  means  whereby  an  insight  may  be 
obtained  into  the  future"?" 

"  Many,  my  son,"  replied  Dee.  "  I 
have  a  magic  glass,  in  which,  with  due 
preparation,  you  may  behold  exact  repre- 
sentations of  coming  events.  I  am  now 
returning  to  the  college,  and  if  you  will 
accompany  me,  I  will  show  it  you." 

The  offer  was  eagerly  accepted,  and  the 
party  quitted  the  churchyard. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
THE  MAGIC  GLASS. 


The  old  College  of  Manchester  occupied, 
as  is  well  known,  the  site  of  the  existing 
structure,  called — after  the  benevolent  in- 
dividual by  whom  that  admirable  charity 
was  founded,  and  whom  we  have  ven- 
tured to  introduce  in  this  history — the 
Chetham  Hospital.  Much,  indeed,  of 
the  ancient  buikling  remains;  for  though 
it  was  considerably  repaired  and  enlarged, 
being  "  very  ruinous  and  in  great  decay," 
at  the  time  of  its  purchase  in  1654,  by  the 
feoffees  under  Humphrey  Chetham's  will, 
from  the  sequestrators  of  the  earl  of  Der- 
by's estates,  still  the  general  character  of 
the  fabric  has  been  preserved,  and  several 
of  its  chambers  retained.  Originally  built 
on  the  foundation  of  a  manor-house  deno- 
minated The  Baron's  Hall — the  abode  of 
the  Grelleys  and  the  De  la  VVarrs,  lords  of 
Manchester— the  College  continued  to  be 
used  as  the  residence  of  the  warden  and 
fellows  of  the  Collegiate  Church  until  the 
reign  of  Edward  the  First,  when  that  body 
■was  dissolved.  On  the  accession,  how- 
ever, of  Mary,  the  College  was  re-estab- 
lished; hut  the  residence  of  the  ecclesias- 
tical body  being  removed  to  a  house  in 
Deansgate,  the  building  was  allowed  to 
become  extremely  dilapidated,  and  was 
used  partly  as  a  prison  for  recusants  and 
other  offenders,  and  partly  as  a  magazine 
for  powder.  In  this  state  Doctor  Dee 
found  it  when  he  succeeded  to  the  warden- 
ship  in  1595,  and  preferring  it,  notwith- 
standing its  ruinous  condition,  to  the 
house  appointed  for  him  elsewhere,  took 
up  his  abode  in  it. 

Situated    on  a  high  rock,  overhanging 
the  river  Irk — at  that  time  a  clear  stream, 


remarkable  for  the  excellence  of  its  fish — 
and  constructed  entirely  of  stone,  the  old 
College  had  then,  and  still  has  to  a  certain 
extent,  a  venerable  and  monastic  appear- 
ance. During  Dee's  occupation  of  it,  it 
became  a  sort  of  weird  abode  in  the  eyes 
of  the  vulgar,  and  many  a  timorous  look 
was  cast  at  it  by  those  who  walked  at 
eventide  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  Irk. 
Sometimes  the  curiosity  of  the  watchers 
was  rewarded  by  beholding  a  few  sparks 
issue  from  the  chimney,  and  now  and 
then,  the  red  reflection  of  a  fire  might  be 
discerned  through  the  window.  But  gen- 
erally nothing  could  be  perceived,  and  the 
building  seemed  as  dark  and  mysterious 
as  its  occupant. 

One  night,  however,  a  loud  explosion 
took  place— so  loud,  indeed,  that  it  shook 
the  whole  pile  to  its  foundation,  dislodged 
one  or  two  of  the  chimneys,  and  over- 
threw an  old  wall,  the  stones  of  which 
rolled  into  the  river  beneath.  Alarmed  by 
the  concussion,  the  inhabitants  of  Hunt's 
bank  rushed  forth,  and  saw,  to  their  great 
alarm,  that  the  wing  of  the  College  oc- 
cupied by  Doctor  Dee  was  in  flames. 
Though  many  of  them  attributed  the 
circumstance  to  supernatural  agency,  and 
were  fully  persuaded  that  the  enemy  of 
mankind  was  at  that  instant  bearing  off 
bis  prey  in  the  persons  of  the  conjuror 
and  his  assistant,  and  refused  to  interfere 
to  stop  the  conflagration;  others  more 
humane,  and  less  superstitious,  hastened 
to  lend  their  aid  to  extinguish  the  flames. 
On  reaching  the  College  they  could 
scarcely  credit  their  senses  on  finding 
that  there  was  no  appearance  of  fire;  and 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


37 


they  were  itiet  by  the  Doctor  and  his  com- 
panion at  the  o;ates,  who  informed  them 
that  their  presence  was  unnecessary,  as  all 
danorerwas  over.  From  that  night  Doctor 
Dee's  reputation  as  a  wizard  was  firmly 
established. 

At  the  period  of  this  history,  Doctor 
Dee  was  last  verginof  on  eighty,  having 
passed  a  long  life  in  severe  and  abstruse 
study.  He  had  travelled  much,  had  visit- 
ed most  of  the  foreign  courts,  where  he 
was  generally  well  received,  and  was  pro- 
foundly versed  in  mathematics,  astronomy, 
the  then  popular  science  of  judicial  astro- 
logy, and  other  occult  learning.  So  ac- 
curate were  his  calculations  esteemed,  that 
he  was  universally  consulted  as  an  oracle. 
For  some  time  he  resided  in  Germany, 
where  he  was  invited  by  the  Emperor 
Charles  the  Fifth,  and  retained  by  his 
brother  and  successor,  Ferdinando.  He 
next  went  to  Louvain,  where  his  reputa- 
tion had  preceded  him;  and  from  thence 
to  Paris,  where  he  lectured  at  the  schools 
on  geometry,  and  was  offered  a  professor- 
ship of  the  university,  but  declined  it. 
On  his  return  to  England  in  1551,  he  was 
appointed  one  of  the  instructors  of  the 
youthful  monarch  Edward  the  Sixth,  who 
presented  him  with  an  annual  pension  of 
a  hundred  marks.  This  he  was  permitted 
to  commute  for  the  rectory  of  Upton- 
upon-Severn,  which  he  retained  until  the 
accession  of  Mary,  when  being  charged 
with  devising  her  Majesty's  destruction 
by  enchantments — certain  waxen  images 
of  the  Queen  having  been  found  witiiin 
his  abode — he  was  thrown  into  prison, 
rigorously  treated,  and  kept  in  durance  for 
a  long  period.  At  length,  from  want  of 
sufficient  proof  against  him  he  was  libe- 
rated. 

Dee  shared  the  common  fate  of  all  as- 
trologers; he  was  alternately  honored  and 
disgraced.  His  next  patron  was  Lord 
Robert  Dudley  (afterwards  Earl  of  Lei- 
cester), who,  it  is  well  known,  was  a  firm 
believer  in  the  superstitious  arts  to  which 
Dee  was  addicted,  and  by  whom  he  was 
employed,  on  the  accession  of  Elizabeth, 
to  erect  a  scheme  to  ascertain  the  best 
day  for  her  coronation.  His  prediction 
was  so  fortunate  that  it  procured  him  the 
favor  of  the  Queen,  from  whom  he  re- 
ceived many  marks  of  regard.  As  it  is 
not  needful  to  follow  him  through  his 
various  wanderings,  it  may  be  sufficient  to 
mention,  that  in  1564  he  proceeded  to 
Germany  on  a  visit  to  the  Emperor  Maxi- 
milian, to  whom  he  dedicated  his  '■'•Monas 
Hieroglyphica;''''  that  in  1571  he  fell  griev- 
ously sick  in  Lorrain,  whither  two  phy- 
sicians were  despatched  to  his  aid  by 
Elizabeth;  and  that  on  his  recovery  he 
returned  to  his  own  country,  and  retired 


to  Mortlake,  where  he  gathered  together  a 
vast  library,  comprising  the  rarest  and 
most  curious  works  on  all  sciences,  toge- 
ther with  a  large  collection  of  manuscripts. 

While  thus  living  in  retirement,  he  was 
sought  out  by  Edward  Kelley,  a  native  of 
Worcestershire,  who  represented  himself 
as  in  possession  of  an  old  book  of  magic, 
containing  forms  of  invocation,  by  which 
spirits  might  be  summoned  and  controlled, 
as  well  as  a  ball  of  ivory,  found  in  the 
tomb  of  a  bishop  who  had  made  great 
progress  in  hermetic  philosophy,  which 
was  filled  with  the  powder  of  projection. 
These  treasures  Kelley  offered  to  place  in 
the  hands  of  the  Doctor  on  certain  condi- 
tions, which  were  immediately  acquiesced 
in,  and  thenceforth,  Kelley  became  a  con- 
slant  inmate  in  his  house,  and  an  assistant 
in  all  his  practices.  Shortly  afterwards 
they  were  joined  by  a  Polish  nobleman, 
Albert  de  Laski,  Palatine  of  Suabia, 
whom  they  accompanied  to  Prague,  at  the 
instance  of  the  Emperor  Rodolph  the 
Second,  who  desired  to  be  initiated  into 
their  mysteries.  Their  reception  at  this 
court  was  not  such  as  to  induce  a  long 
sojourn  at  it;  and  Dee  having  been  warn- 
ed by  his  familiar  spirits  to  sell  his  effects 
and  depart,  complied  with  the  intimation 
and  removed  to  Poland.  The  same  fate 
attended  him  here.  The  nuncio  of  the 
Pope  denounced  him  as  a  sorcerer,  and 
demanded  that  he  should  be  delivered  up 
to  the  Inquisition;  this  was  refused  by  the 
monarch;  but  Dee  and  his  companion 
were  banished  from  his  dominions,  and 
compelled  to  fly  to  Bohemia,  where  they 
took  refuge  in  the  castle  of  Trebona,  be- 
longing to  Count  Rosenberg.  Shortly 
after  this,  Dee  and  Kelley  separated,  the 
magical  instruments  being  delivered  to  the 
former,  who  bent  his  course  homewards, 
and  on  his  arrival  in  London  was  warmly 
welcomed  by  the  queen.  During  his  ab- 
sence, his  house  at  Mortlake  had  been 
broken  open  by  the  populace,  under  the 
pretence  of  its  being  the  abode  of  a  wizard, 
and  rifled  of  its  valuable  library  and 
manuscripts — a  loss  severely  felt  by  the 
Doctor.  Some  years  were  now  passed  by 
Dee  in  great  destitution,  during  which  he 
prosecuted  his  studies  with  the  same 
ardor  as  before,  until  at  length  in  1595, 
when  he  was  turned  seventy,  fortune 
again  smiled  upon  him,  and  he  was  ap- 
pointed to  the  wardenship  of  the  College 
at  Manchester,  whither  he  repaired,  and 
was  installed  in  groat  pomp. 

Jiut  his  residence  in  this  place  was  not 
destined  to  be  a  tranquil  one.  His  repu- 
tation as  a  dealer  in  the  black  art  had  pre- 
ceded him,  and  rendered  him  obnoxious 
to  the  clergy,  with  whom  he  had  constant 
disputes,  and  a  feud   subsisted   between 

4* 


38 


GUY    FAWKES. 


him  and  the  fellows  of  his  church.  It 
has  already  been  mentioned  that  he  re- 
fused to  occupy  the  house  allotted  him, 
but  preferred  takintr  up  his  quarters  in  the 
old  dilapidated  college.  Various  reasons 
were  assiorned  by  his  enemies  for  this  sin- 
gular choice  of  abode.  They  affirmed  — 
and  with  some  reason,  that  he  selected  it 
because  he  desired  to  elude  observation — 
and  that  his  mode  of  life,  sufficiently  im- 
proper in  a  layman,  was  altogether  inde- 
corous in  an  ecclesiastic.  By  the  common 
people  he  was  universally  regarded  as  a 
conjuror — and  many  at  first  came  to  con- 
sult him;  but  he  peremptorily  dismissed 
all  such  applicants;  and  when  seven  fe- 
males, supposed  to  be  possessed,  were 
brought  to  him  that  he  might  exercise  his 
power  over  the  evil  spirits,  he  refused  to 
interfere.  He  also  publicly  examined  and 
rebuked  a  juggler,  named  Hartley,  who 
pretended  to  magical  knowledge.  But 
these  things  did  not  blind  his  enemies, 
■who  continued  to  harass  him  to  such  a 
degree,  that  he  addressed  a  petition  to 
James  the  First,  entreating  to  be  brought 
to  trial,  when  the  accusations  preferred 
against  him  might  be  fully  investigated, 
and  his  character  cleared.  This  applica- 
tion, and  anotlier  to  the  like  effect,  ad- 
dressed to  parliament,  were  disregarded. 
Dee  had  not  been  long  established  in 
Manchester  when  he  was  secretly  joined 
by  Kelley,  and  they  recommenced  their 
search  after  the  grand  secret — passing  the 
nights  in  making  various  alchemycal  ex- 
periments, or  in  fancied  conferences  with 
invisible  beings. 

Among  other  magical  articles  possessed 
by  Doctor  Dee  was  a  large  globe  of  crys- 
tal, which  he  termed  the  Holy  Stone, 
because  he  believed  it  had  been  brought 
him  by  "angelical  ministry;"  atid  "in 
which,"  according  to  Meric  Casaubon, 
"and  out  of  which,  by  persons  qualified 
for  it,  and  admitted  to  the  sight  of  it,  all 
shapes  and  figures  mentioned  in  every 
action  were  seen,  and  voices  heard."  'J'he 
same  writer  informs  us  it  was  "round- 
shaped,  of  a  pretty  bigness,  and  most  like 
unto  crystal."  l3ee  himself  declared  to 
the  Emperor  Rodolph,  "that  the  spirits 
had  brought  him  a  stone  of  that  value  tiiat 
no  earthly  kingdom  was  of  such  worthi- 
ness as  10  be  compared  to  the  virtue  and 
dinrnity  thereof."  He  was  in  the  habit  of 
daily  consulting  this  marvellous  stone, 
and  recording  the  visions  he  saw  therein, 
and  the  conferences  he  held  through  it 
with  the  invisible  world. 

Followed  by  Guy  Fawkes  and  Kelley, 
the  Doctor  took  his  way  down  Long  Mill 
Gale.  Stopping  at  an  arched  gateway  on 
the  left,  near  which,  on  the  site  of  the 
modern  structure,  stood  the  public  school, 


founded  at  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth 
century  by  Hugh  Oldham,  Bishop  of 
Exeter,  he  unlocked  a  small  wicket,  and 
entered  a  spacious  court,  surrounded  on 
one  side  by  high  stone  walls,  and  on  the 
other  by  a  wing  of  the  college. 

Conducting  his  guest  to  the  principal 
entrance  of  the  building,  which  lay  at  the 
farther  end  of  the  court.  Doctor  Dee 
ushered  him  into  a  large  chamber,  panel- 
led with  oak,  and  having  a  curiously- 
moulded  ceiling,  ornamented  with  gro- 
tesque sculpture.  This  room,  still  in 
existence,  and  now  occupied  by  the  mas- 
ter of  the  school,  formed  Doctor  Dee's 
library.  Offering  Fawkes  a  chair,  the 
Doctor  informed  him  that  when  all  was 
ready,  Kelley  should  summon  him,  and 
accompanied  by  his  assistant,  he  with- 
drew. Half  an  hour  elapsed  before  Kel- 
ley returned.  Motioning  Guy  Fawkes  to 
follow  him,  he  led  the  way  through  seve- 
ral intricate  passages  to  a  chamber,  which 
was  evidently  the  magician's  sacred  re- 
treat. In  a  recess  on  one  side  stood  a 
table,  covered  with  cabalistic  characters 
and  figures,  referring  to  the  celestial  in- 
flu^ces.  On  this  table  was  placed  the 
hol^  stone,  which  diffused  such  a  glisten- 
inff  radiance  as  is  emitted  by  the  pebble 
called  cat's-eye.  On  the  iioor  a  wide 
circle  was  described,  in  the  rings  of  which 
magical  characters,  resembling  those  on 
the  table,  were  traced.  In  front  of  this 
stood  a  brasier,  filled  with  flaming  coals. 
Before  it  hung  a  heavy  black  curtain,  ap- 
pearing to  shroud  some  mystery  from 
view. 

Desiring  Fawkes  to  place  himself  in 
the  centre  of  a  circle.  Doctor  Dee  cast 
several  ingredients,  which  he  took  from  a 
basket  handed  him  by  Kelley,  into  the 
brasier.  As  each  herb  or  gum  was  ig- 
nited, the  flame  changed  its  color;  now 
becoming  crimson,  now  green,  now  blue, 
while  fragrant  or  noxious  odors  loaded 
the  atmosphere.  These  suffumigations 
ended.  Dee  took  a  wand,  and  sealing  him- 
self on  a  chair  near  the  table,  whither  he 
was  followed  by  Kelley,  and  commanding 
Fawkes  not  to  move  a  footstep,  as  he 
valued  his  safety,  he  began  in  a  solemn 
tone  to  utter  an  invocation.  As  he  con* 
tinned,  a  hollow  noise  was  heard  over- 
head, which  gradually  increased  in  loud- 
ness, until  it  appeared  as  if  the  walls  were 
tumbling  about  their  ears. 

"The  spirits  are  at  hand!"  cried  Dee. 
"Do  not  look  behind  you,  or  they  will 
tear  you  in  pieces." 

As  he  spoke,  a  horrible  din  was  heard, 
as  of  mingled  howling,  shrieking,  and 
laughter.  This  was  succeeded  by  a  low 
faint  strain  of  music,  which  gradually 
died  away,  and  then  all  was  silent. 


GUY    FAWKES. 


39 


"  All  is  prepared,"  cried  Dee.  "  Now, 
what  would  you  behold'?" 

"The  progress  of  the  great  enterprise," 
replied  Fawkes. 

Doctor  Dee  waved  his  wand.  The  cur- 
tains slowly  unfolded,  and  Guy  Fawkes 
perceived  as  in  a  glass  a  group  of  dark 
figures;  amogst  which  he  noticed  one  in 
all  respects  resembling  himself.  A  priest 
was  apparently  proposing  an  oath,  which 
the  others  were  uttering. 

"  Do  you  recognise  them?"  said  Doctor 
Dee. 

"  Perfectly,"  replied  Fawkes. 

"Look  again,"  said  Dee. 

As  he  spoke  the  figures  melted  away, 
and  a  new  scene  was  presented  on  the 
glass.  It  was  a  gloomy  vault,  filled  with 
barrels,  partly  covered  with  faggots  and 
billets  of  wood. 

"  Have  you  seen  enoughl"  demanded 
Dee. 

"  No,"   replied  Fawkes,   firmly.      "  I 


have  seen  what  is  past.  I  would  behold 
that  which  is  to  come." 

"  Look  again,  then,"  rejoined  the  Doc- 
tor, waving  his  wand. 

For  an  instant  the  glass  was  darkened, 
and  nothing  could  be  discerned  except  the 
lurid  flame  and  thick  smoke  arising  from 
the  brasier.  The  next  moment,  an  icy 
chill  shot  through  the  frame  of  Guy 
Fawkes  as  he  beheld  a  throng  of  skele- 
tons arranged  before  him.  The  bony  fin- 
gers of  the  foremost  of  the  grisly  assem- 
blage were  pointed  towards  an  indistinct 
object  at  its  feet.  As  this  object  gradu- 
ally became  more  defined,  Guy  Fawkes 
perceived  that  it  was  a  figure  resembling 
himself,  stretched  upon  the  wheel,  and 
writhing  in  the  agonies  of  torture. 

He  uttered  an  exclamation  of  terror,  and 
the  curtains  were  instantly  closed. 

Half  an  hour  afterwards,  Guy  Fawkes 
quitted  the  college,  and  returned  to  the 
Seven  Stars. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THE  PRISON  ON  SALFORD  BRIDGE. 


On  the  following  morning,  Guy  Fawkes 
had  a  long  and  private  conference  with 
Father  Oldcorne.  The  priest  appeared 
greatly  troubled  by  the  communication 
made  to  him,  but  he  said  nothing,  and 
was  for  some  time  lost  in  reflection,  and 
evidently  weighing  within  himself  what 
course  it  would  be  best  to  pursue.  His-: 
uneasiness  was  not  without  eflfect  on  .Vivi- 
ana  Kadcliffe,  and  she  ventured  at  last  to 
inquire  whether  he  apprehended  any  new 
danger.  I 

"I  scarcely  know  what  I  apprehend, 
dear  daughter,"  he  answered.  "  But  cir- 
cumstances have  occurred  which  render  it 
impossible  we  can  remain  longer  in  our 
present  asylum  with  safety.  We  must 
quit  it  at  nightfall."  | 

"Is  our  retreat  then  discovered?"  in- 
quired Viviana,  in  alarm. 
'"Not  as  yet,  I  trust,"  replied  Old- 
corne; "but  I  have  just  ascertained  from 
a  messenger  that  the  pursuivant  who,  we 
thought  had  departed  for  Chester,  is  still 
lingering  within  the  town.  He  has  of- 
fered a  large  reward  for  my  apprehension, 
and  having  traced  us  to  Manchester,  de- 
clares he  will  leave  no  house  unsearched 
till  he  finds  us.  He  has  got  together  a 
fresh  band  of  soldiers,  and  is  now  visiting 
every  place  which  he  thinks  likely  to  af- 
ford us  shelter." 


I  "If  this  is  the  case?"  said  Viviana, 
I  "  why  remain  here  a  single  moment?  Let 
^us  fly  at  once." 

I  "That  would  avail  nothing — or  rather, 
it  would  expose  us  to  fresh  risk,  dear 
daughter,"  replied  Oldcorne.  "Every 
approach  to  the  town  is  guarded,  and  sol- 
diers are  posted  at  the  corners  of  the 
streets,  who  stop,  and  examine  each  sus- 
pected person." 

"  Heaven  protect  us!"  exclaimed  Vivi- 
ana. 

"  But  this  is  not  all,"  continued  the 
priest.  "  By  some  inexplicable  and  mys- 
terious means,  the  designs  of  certain  of 
the  most  assured  friends  of  the  Catholic 
cause  have  come  to  the  knowledge  of  our 
enemies,  and  the  lives  and  safeties  of 
many  worthy  men  will  be  endangered: 
amongst  others,  that  of  your  father." 

"  You  terrify  me!"  cried  Viviana. 

"  The  ruck  shall  force  nothing  from  me, 
father,"  said  Fawkes,  sternly. 

"Nor  from  me,  my  son,"  rejoined  Old- 
corne. "  I  have  that  within  me  which 
will  enable  me  to  sustain  the  bitterest  ago- 
nies that  the  persecutors  of  our  Church 
can  inflict." 

"  Nor  shall  it  force  aught  from  me," 
added  Viviana.  "  For,  though  you  have 
trusted  me  with  nothing  that  can  impli- 
cate others,  I  plainly  perceive  some  plot  is 


40 


GUY     FAWKES. 


in  agitation  for  the  restoration  of  our  reli- 
gion, and  I  more  than  suspect  Mr.  Catcsby 
is  its  chief  contriver." 

"  Daughter!"  exclaimed  Oldcorne  un- 
easily. 

"  Kear  notliing,  father,"  she  rejoined. 
"As  1  have  said,  the  rack  shall  not  force 
me  to  hetray'you.  Neither  should  it  keep 
me  silent  when  I  feel  that  my  counsel  — 
Bucli  as  it  is — may  avail  you.  The  course 
you  are  pursuing  is  a  dangerous  and  fatal 
one — dangerous  to  yourselves,  and  fatal 
to  the  cause  you  would  serve.  Do  not 
deceive  yourselves.  You  are  struggling 
hopelessly  and  unrighteously,  and  Heaven 
will  never  prosper  an  undertaking  which 
has  its  aim  in  the  terrible  waste  of  life 
you  meditate." 

Father  Oldcorne  made  no  reply,  but 
walked  apart  with  Guy  Fawkes;  and  Vi- 
viana  abandoned  herself  to  sorrowful  re- 
flection. 

Shortly  after  this,  the  door  was  sud- 
denly thrown  open,  and  Humphrey  Chet- 
ham  rushed  into  the  room.  His  looks 
were  so  full  of  apprehension,  that  Viviana 
was  at  no  loss  to  perceive  that  some  ca- 
lamity was  at  hand. 

"  What  is  the  matter?"  she  cried,  rising. 

"The  pursuivant  and  his  men  are  be- 
low," he  replied.  "They  are  interroga- 
ting the  hostess,  and  are  about  to  search 
the  house.  I  managed  to  pass  them  un- 
perceived." 

"  We  will  resist  them  to  the  last,"  said 
Guy  Fawkes,  drawing  a  petronel. 

"  Resistance  will  be  in  vain,"  rejoined 
Humphrey  Chetham.  "They  more  than 
treble  our  number." 

"  Is  there  no  means  of  escape!"  asked 
Viviana. 

"  None  whatever,"  replied  Chetham. 
"I  hear  them  on  the  stairs.  The  terrified 
hostess  has  not  dared  to  deny  you,  and  is 
conducting  them  hither." 

"Stand  back!"  cried  Guy  Fawkes,  stri- 
ding towards  the  door,  "  and  let  me  alone 
confront  them.  That  accursed  pursuivant 
has  escaped  me  once.  But  he  shall  not 
do  so  a  second  time." 

"  My  son,"  said  Oldcorne,  advancing 
towards  him,  "  preserve  yourself,  if  possi- 
ble. Your  life  is  of  consequence  to  the 
great  cause.  Think  not  of  us — think  not 
of  revenging  yourself  upon  this  caitiff. — 
But  think  of  the  high  destiny  for  which 
you  are  reserved.  That  window  offers  a 
means  of  retreat.  Avail  yourself  of  it. — 
Fly!— fly!" 

"Ay,  fly!"  repeated  Viviana.  "And 
you,  Master  Chetham, — your  presence 
here  can  do  no  good.  Quick! — they 
come!" 

"Nothing  should  induce  me  to  quit  you 
at  such  a  moment,   Miss  Radcliffe,"  re- 


plied Chetham,  "but  the  conviction  that 
I  may  be  able  to  liberate  you,  should  these 
miscreants  convey  you  to  prison." 

"  Fly!— fly,  my  son,"  cried  Oldcorne. 
"  They  are  at  the  door." 

Thus  urged,  Guy  Fawkes  reluctantly 
yielded  to  Oldoorne's  entreaties,  and 
sprang  through  the  window.  He  was  fol- 
lowed by  Chetham.  Viviana  rushed  to 
the  casement,  and  saw  that  they  had 
alighted  in  safety  on  the  ground,  and 
were  flying  swiftly  up  Shude  Hill. — 
Meanwhile,  the  pursuivant  had  reached 
the  door,  which  Chetham  had  taken  the 
precaution  to  fasten,  and  was  trying  to 
burst  it  open.  The  bolts  offered  but  a  fee- 
ble resistance  to  his  fury,  and  the  next 
moment,  he  burst  into  the  room,  at  the 
head  of  a  band  of  soldiers. 

"Seize  them!"  he  cried.  "Ha!"  he 
added,  glancing  round  the  room  with  a 
look  of  disappointment,  "where  are  the 
others'?  Where  is  the  soldier  in  the 
Spanish  garb?  Where  is  Master  Chet- 
ham. Confess  at  once,  dog!"  he  contin- 
ued, seizing  the  priest  by  the  throat,  or  I 
will  pluck  the  secret  from  your  breast." 

"  Do  not  harm  him,"  interposed  Vivia- 
na. "I  will  answer  the  question.  They 
are  fled." 

"  Fled!"  echoed  the  pursuivant  in  con- 
sternation.    "  In  what  way?" 

"  Through  that  window,"  replied  Vi- 
viana. 

"After  them!"  cried  the  pursuivant  to 
some  of  his  attendants.  "Take  the  sol- 
dier dead  or  alive.  And  now,"  he  con-" 
tinned,  as  his  orders  were  obeyed,  "  ycu 
Feather  Oldcorne,  Jesuit  and  traitor,  and 
you  V^iviana  Radcliffe,  his  shelterer  and 
abettor,  I  shall  convey  you  both  to  the 
prison  on  Sal  ford  Bridge.  Seize  them, 
and  bring  them  along." 

"Touch  me  not,"  said  Viviana,  push- 
ing the  men  aside,  who  rudely  advanced 
to  obey  their  leader's  command.  "  You 
have  no  warrant  for  this  brutality.  I  am 
ready  to  attend  you.  Take  my  arm,  fa- 
ther." 

Abashed  at  this  reproof,  the  pursuivant 
stalked  out  of  the  room.  Surrounded  by 
the  soldiers,  Viviana  and  the  priest  fol- 
lowed. The  sad  procession  was  attended 
by  crowds  to  the  very  door  of  the  prison, 
where,  by  the  pursuivant's  commands, 
they  were  locked  in  separate  cells. 

The  cell  in  which  Viviana  was  confined 
was  a  small  chamber  situated  at  the  back 
of  the  prison,  and  on  the  upper  story.  Ii 
had  a  small  grated  window  overlooking  the 
river.  It  has  already  been  mentioned  that 
this  prison  was  originally  a  chapel  built  in 
the  reign  of  Edward  the  Third,  and  had 
only  recently  been  converted  into  a  place 
of  security  for  recusants.     The  chamber 


GUY    FAWKES. 


41 


allotted  to  Viviana  -was  contrived  in  the 
roof,  and  was  so  low  that  she  could  scarce- 
ly stand  upright  in  it.  It  was  furnished 
with  a  chair,  a  small  table,  and  a  straw 
pallet. 

The  hours  passed  wearily  with  Viviana 
as  they  were  marked  by  the  deep-toned 
clock  of  the  Colletriate  Church,  the  tall 
tower  of  which  fronted  her  window.  Op- 
pressed by  the  most  melancholy  reflections, 
she  was  for  some  time  a  prey  almost  to 
despair.  On  whatever  side  she  looked, 
the  prospect  was  equally  cheerless,  and 
her  sole  desire  was  that  she  might  find  a 
refuge  from  her  cares  in  the  seclusion  of  a 
convent.  For  this  she  prayed — and  she 
prayed  also  that  Heaven  would  soften  the 
hearts  of  her  oppressors,  and  enable  those 
who  suffered  to  endure  their  yoke  with 
patience.  In  the  evening,  provisions  were 
brought  her,  and  placed  upon  the  table, 
together  with  a  lamp,  by  a  surly-looking 
gaoler.  But  Viviana  had  no  inclination  to 
eat,  and  left  them  untouched.  Neither 
could  she  prevail  upon  herself  to  lie  down 
on  the  wretched  pallet,  and  she  therefore 
determined  to  pass  the  night  in  the  chair. 

After  some  hours  of  watchfulness,  her 
eyelids  closed,  and  she  continued  to  slum- 
ber until  she  was  aroused  by  a  slight  noise 
at  the  window.  Starting  at  the  sound,  she 
flew  towards  it,  and  perceived  in  the 
gloom  the  face  of  a  man.  She  would  have 
uttered  a  loud  cry,  when  the  circumstances 
of  her  situation  rushed  to  mind,  and  the 
possibility  that  it  might  be  a  friend  oc- 
curred to  her,  and  checked  her.  The  next 
moment,  she  was  satisfied  of  the  truth  of 
her  conjecture.  A  voice,  which  she  re- 
cognised as  that  of  Humphrey  Chetham, 
called  to  her  by  name  in  a  low  tone,  bid- 
ding hor  fear  nothing,  as  he  was  come  to 
set  her  free. 

"  How  have  you  contrived  to  reach  this 
window]"  asked  Viviana. 

"  By  a  rope-ladder,"  he  answered.  "  I 
have  contrived  in  the  darkness  to  clamber 
upon  the  roof  of  the  prison  from  the  para- 
pets of  the  bridge,  and,  after  securing  the 
ladder  to  a  projection,  have  dropped  the 
other  end  into  a  boat,  rowed  by  Guy 
Fawkes,  and  concealed  beneath  the  arches 
of  the  bridge.  If  1  can  remove  this  bar  so 
as  to  allow  you  to  pass  through  the  win- 
dow, dare  yc^u  descend  the  ladder]" 

"  No,"  replied  Viviana,  shuddering. 
*'  My  brain  reels  at  the  mere  idea." 

"  Think  of  the  fate  you  will  escape," 
urged  (Jiietham. 

"  And  what  will  become  of  Father  Old- 
come]"  said  Viviana.     "  Where  is  he]" 

"In  the  cell  immediately  beneath  you," 
replied  Chetham. 


"  Can  you  not  liberate  him''"  she  asked. 

"If  he  will  risk  the  descent,"  answered 
Chetham. 

"Free  him  first,"  said  Viviana,  "and 
at  all  hazards  I  will  accompany  you." 

The  young  merchant  made  no  reply,  but 
disappeared  from  the  window.  Viviana 
strained  her  gaze  downwards;  but  the 
night  was  too  dark  to  allow  her  to  see 
anything.  She,  however,  heard  a  noise 
like  that  produced  by  a  file,  and  shortly 
afterwards  a  few  muttered  words  informed 
her  that  the  priest  was  passing  through 
the  window.  The  cords  of  the  ladder 
shook  against  the  bars  of  her  window — 
and  she  held  her  breath  for  fear.  From 
this  state  of  suspense  she  was  relieved  in 
a  few  minutes  by  Humphrey  Chetham, 
who  informed  her  that  Oldcorne  had  de- 
scended in  safety,  and  was  in  the  boat 
with  Guy  Fawkes. 

"I  will  fulfil  my  promise,"  replied 
Viviana,  trembling;  "  but  I  fear  my 
strength  will  fail  me." 

"  You  had  better  risk  death  from  the 
river  than  tarry  here,"  replied  Humphrey 
Chetham,  who  as  he  spoke  was  rapidly 
filing  through  the  iron  bar.  "In  a  few 
minutes  this  impediment  will  be  re- 
moved." 

The  young  merchant  worked  hard,  and 
in  a  short  time  the  stout  bar  yielded  to  his 
efforts. 

"  Now,  then,"  he  cried,  springing  into 
the  room,  "  you  are  free." 

"  I  dare  not  make  the  attempt,"  said 
Viviana;  "my  strength  utterly  fails  me." 

"Nay,  then,"  he  replied,  "  I  will  take 
the  risk  upon  myself.  You  must  not  re- 
main here." 

So  saying,  he  caught  her  in  his  arms, 
and  bore  her  through  the  window. 

With  sonre  difticully,  and  no  little  risk, 
he  succeeded  in  gaining  a  fooling  on  the 
ladder.  This  accomplished,  he  began 
slowly  to  descend.  When  halfway  down, 
he  found  he  had  over- rated  his  strength, 
and  he  feared  he  should  be  compelled  to 
quit  his  hold;  but,  nerved  by  his  passion, 
he  held  on,  and  making  a  desperate  effort, 
completed  the  descent  in  safety. 

"  Heaven  be  praised!  you  are  safe,"  he 
cried,  pressing  Viviana  to  his  bosom. 

"I  owe  my  life — more  than  life  to  you," 
she  answered,  ardently  relurninw  his  em- 
brace. 

As  soon  as  Chetham  had  dropped  into 
the  boat,  Guy  P'awkes  suffered  it  to  drift 
down  the  stream;  and  when  it  got  to  a 
sufficient  distance  from  the  bridge  to  allow 
him  to  use  the  oars  witn  satVty,  lie  ])lunged 
them  into  the  stream,  and  began  to  row  off 
with  great  swiftness. 


42 


GUY    FAWKES. 


CHAPTER    X. 


THE  FATE  OF  THE  PURSUIVANT. 


AssrsTED  by  the  stream,  and  plyinq;  liis 
oars  with  crreat  rapidity,  Guy  Fawkes  soon 
Jeft  the  town  far  behind  him;  nor  did  he 
relax  his  exertions  until  checked  by  Hum- 
phrey Chetham.  He  then  ceased  rowintr, 
and  directed  the  boat  towards  the  left  bank 
of  the  river. 

"  Here  we  propose  to  land.  Miss  Rad- 
clifTe,"  observed  the  young  merchant  to 
Viviana.  "  We  are  not  more  than  a  hun- 
dred yards  from  Ordsall  Cave,  where  you 
can  take  refuge  for  a  short  lime,  while  I 
proceed  to  the  Hall,  and  ascertain  whether 
you  can  return  to  it  with  safet)'." 

"I  place  myself  entirely  in  your  hands. 
Master  Chetham,"  she  replied;  "  but  1  fear 
that  such  a  course  will  be  to  rush  into  the 
very  face  of  danger.  Oh!  that  I  could  join 
my  father  at  Holywell!  With  him  I  should 
feel  secure." 

"  Means  may  be  found  to  effect  your 
wishes,"  returned  Humphrey  Chetham; 
"  but,  after  the  suffering  you  have  recently 
endured,  it  will  scarcely  be  prudent  to  un- 
dertake so  long  a  journey  without  a  few 
hours'  repose.  To-morrow — or  the  next 
day — you  may  set  out." 

"  I  am  fully  equal  to  it  now,"  rejoined 
Viviana,  eagerly;  "  and  any  fatigue  I  may 
undergo  will  not  equal  my  present  anxiety. 
You  have  already  done  so  much  for  me, 
Master  Chetham,  that  1  venture  to  pre- 
sume still  further  upon  your  kindness. 
Provide  some  immediate  means  of  convey- 
ance for  me  and  for  Father  Oldcorne  to 
Chester,  and  I  shall  for  ever  be  beholden 
to  you." 

"I  will  not  only  do  what  you  desire. 
Miss  Radclilfe,  if  it  be  possible,"  answer- 
ed Chetham,  "  but,  if  you  will  allow  me, 
1  will  serve  as  your  escort." 

"And  I,"  added  Guy  Fawkes. 

"All  I  fear  is,  that  your  strength  may 
fail  you,"  continued  the  young  merchant 
in  a  tone  of  uneasiness. 

"Fear  nothing,  then,"  replied  Viviana. 
"  I  am  made  of  firmer  material  than  3'ou 
imagine.  Tliink  only  of  what  ?/ou  can  do, 
and  doubt  not  my  ability  to  do  it,  also." 

"  1  ever  deemed  you  of  a  courageous  na- 
ture, daughter,"  observed  Oldcorne;  "but 
your  resolution  surpasses  my  belief." 

By  this  lime,  the  boat  had  approached 
the  shore.  Leaping  upon  the  rocky  bank, 
the  young  merchant  assisted  Viviana  to 
land,  and  then  performed  the  same  service 
for  the  priest.  Guy  Fawkes  was  the  last 
to  disembark;  and,  having  pulled  the  skiff 
aground,  he  followed  the  others,  who  wait- 


ed for  him  at  a  short  distance.  The  night 
was  profoundly  dark,  and  the  path  they 
had  taken,  being  shaded  by  large  trees, 
was  scarcely  discernible.  Carefully  guid- 
ing Viviana,  who  leaned  on  him  for  sup- 
port, the  young  merchant  proceeded  at  a 
slow  pace,  and  with  the  utmost  caution. 
Suddenly,  they  were  surprised  and  alarm- 
ed by  a  vivid  blaze  of  light  which  burst 
through  the  trees  on  the  left. 

"  Some  building  must  be  on  fire!"  ex- 
claimed Viviana. 

"It  is  Ordsall  Hall, — it  is  your  father's 
residence,"  cried  Humphrey  Chetham. 

"  It  is  the  work  of  that  accursed  pursui- 
vant, I  will  be  sworn,"  said  Guy  Fawkes. 

"If  it  be  so,  may  the  fire  of  Heaven 
consume  him!"  rejoined  Oldcorne. 

"  Alas!  alas!"  cried  Viviana,  bursting 
into  tears,  "I  thought  myself  equal  to 
every  calamity;  but  this  new  stroke  of  fate 
is  more  than  I  can  bear." 

As  she  spoke,  the  conflagration  evi- 
dently increased.  The  sky  was  illumined 
by  the  red  reflection  of  the  flames.  And, 
as  the  party  hurried  forward  to  a  rising 
ground,  whence  a  better  view  could  be  ob- 
tained of  the  spectacle,  they  saw  the  daik 
walls  of  the  ancient  mansion  apparently 
wrapped  in  the  devouring  element. 

"  Let  us  hasten  thither,"  cried  Viviana, 
distractedly. 

"  I  and  Guy  Fawkes  will  fly  there," 
replied  the  young  merchant,  "and  render 
all  the  assistance  in  our  power.  But  first, 
let  me  convey  you  to  the  cave." 

More  dead  than  alive,  Viviana  suffered 
herself  to  be  borne  in  that  direction.  Ma- 
king his  way  over  every  impediment, 
Chetham  soon  reached  the  excavation; 
and  depositing  his  lovely  burthen  upon  the 
stone  couch,  once  occupied  by  the  unfortu- 
nate prophetess,  and  leaving  her  in  charge 
of  the  priest,  he  hurried  with  Guy  Fawkes 
towards  the  Hall. 

On  arriving  at  the  termination  of  the 
avenue,  they  found,  to  their  great  relief, 
that  it  was  not  the  main  structure,  but  an 
outbuilding  which  was  in  flames,  and  from 
its  situation  the  young  merchant  conceived 
it  to  be  the  stables.  As  soon  as  they  made 
this  discovery,  they  slackened  their  pace, 
being  apprehensive,  from  the  shouts  and 
other  sounds  that  reached  them,  that  some 
hostile  party  might  be  among  the  assem- 
blage. Crossing  the  drawbridge — which 
was  fortunately  lowered — they  were  about 
to  shape  their  course  towards  the  stables, 
which  lay  at  the  further  side  of  the  Hall, 


GUY    FAWKES. 


49 


when  tliey  perceived  the  old  steward, 
Heydocke,  standing  at  the  doorway,  and 
wringing  his  hands  in  distraction.  Hum- 
phrey Chetham  immediately  called  to  him. 

"  I  should  know  that  voice!"  cried  the 
old  man,  stepping  forward.  "Ah!  Mas- 
ter Chetham,  is  it  you]  You  are  arrived 
at  a  sad  time,  sir — a  sad  time — to  see  the 
old  house,  where  I  have  dwelt,  man  and 
boy,  sixty  years  and  more,  in  flames.  But 
one  calamity  after  another  has  befallen 
us.  Ever  since  Sir  William  departed  for 
Holywell  nothing  has  gone  right— nothing 
whatever.  First,  the  house  was  searched 
by  the  pursuivant  and  his  gang;  then,  my 
young  mistress  disappeared;  then  it  was 
rifled  by  these  plunderers,  and  now,  to 
crown  all,  it  is  on  fire,  and  v/ill  speedily 
be  burnt  to  the  ground." 

"Say  not  so,"  replied  the  young  mer- 
chant. "The  flames  have  not  yet  reached 
the  Hall.  And,  if  exertion  is  used,  they  may 
be  extinguished  without  further  mischief." 

"Let  those  who  have  kindled  them 
extinguish  them,"  replied  Heydocke,  sul- 
lenly.    "  I  will  not  raise  hand  more." 

"  Who  are  the  incendiaries?"  demanded 
Fawkes. 

"The  pursuivant  and  his  followers," 
replied  Heydocke.  "  They  came  here  to- 
night; and  after  ransacking  the  house 
under  pretence  of  procuring  further  evi- 
dence against  my  master,  and  carrying 
off  every  thing  valuable  they  could  col- 
lect, plate,  jewels,  ornaments,  money,  and 
even  wearing  apparel,  they  ended  by  lock- 
ing up  all  the  servants,  except  myself,  who 
managed  to  elude  their  vigilance,  in  the 
cellar,  and  setting  fire  to  the  stables." 

"Wretches!"  exclaimed  Humphrey 
Chetham. 

"  Wretches,  indeed!"  repeated  the  stew- 
ard. "  But  this  is  not  all  the  villany  they 
contemplate.  I  had  concealed  myself  in 
the  store-room,  under  a  heap  of  lumber, 
and  in  searching  for  me  they  chanced 
upon  a  barrel  of  gunpowHer — " 

"Well!"  interrupted  Guy  Fawkos. 

"Well,  sir,"  pursued  Heydocke,  "I 
heard  the  pursuivant  remark  to  one  of  his 
comrades,  'This  is  a  lucky  discovery.  If 
we  can't  find  the  steward,  we'll  blow  him 
and  the  old  house  to  the  devil.'  Just  then, 
some  one  came  to  tell  him  I  was  hidden 
in  the  stables,  and  the  whole  troop  ad- 
journed thither.  But  being  baulked  of 
their  prey,  I  suppose,  they  wreaked  their 
vengeance  in  the  way  you  perceive." 

"No  doubt,"  rejoined  Humphrey  Chet- 
ham. "But  they  shall  bitterly  rue  it.  I 
will  myself  represent  tlie  allair  to  the 
Commissioners." 

"It  will  be  useless,"  groaned  Hey- 
docke. "There  is  no  law  to  protect  the 
property  of  a  Catholic." 


"Where  is  the  barrel  of  gunpowder  you 
spoke  of?"  asked  Guy  Fawkes,  as  if 
struck  by  a  sudden  idea. 

"The  villains  took  it  with  them  when 
they  quitted  the  store-room,"  replied  the 
steward.  "I  suppose  they  have  got  it  in 
the  yard." 

"They  have  lighted  a  fire  which  shall 
be  quenched  with  their  blood,"  rejoined 
Fawkes,  fiercely.  "  Follow  me.  1  may 
need  you  both." 

So  saying,  he  darted  off,  and  turning  the 
corner,  came  in  front  of  the  blazing  pile. 
Occupying  one  side  of  a  large  quadrangu- 
lar court,  the  stables  where  wholly  dis- 
connected with  the  Hall:  and  though  the 
fire  burnt  furiously;  yet  as  the  wind  car- 
ried the  flames  and  sparks  in  a  contrary 
direction,  it  was  possible  the  latter  build- 
ing might  escape  if  due  precaution  were 
taken.  So  far,  however,  from  this  being 
the  case,  it  seemed  the  object  of  the  by- 
standers to  assist  the  progress  of  the  con- 
flagration. Several  horses,  saddled  and 
bridled,  had  been  removed  from  the  stable, 
and  placed  within  an  open  cowhouse.  To 
these  Guy  Fawkes  called  Chetham's  at- 
tention, and  desired  him  and  the  old  stew- 
ard to  secure  some  of  them.  Hastily 
giving  directions  to  Heydocke,  the  young 
merchant  obeyed — sprang  on  the  back  of 
the  nearest  courser,  and  seizing  the  bridles 
of  two  others,  rode  off  with  them.  His 
example  was  followed  by  Heydocke,  and 
one  steed  only  was  left.  Such  was  the 
confusion  and  clamor  prevailing  around, 
that  the  above  proceeding  passed  unno- 
ticed. 

Guy  Fawkes,  meanwhile,  ensconcing' 
himself  behind  the  court-gate,  looked 
about  for  the  barrel  of  gunpowder.  For 
some  time  he  could  discover  no  trace  of  it. 
At  length,  beneath  a  shed,  not  far  from 
him,  he  perceived  a  soldier  seated  upon  a 
small  cask,  which  he  had  no  doubt  was 
the  object  he  was  in  search  of.  So  intent 
was  the  man  upon  the  spectacle  before 
him,  that  he  was  wholly  unaware  of  the 
approach  of  an  enemy;  and  creeping  noise- 
lessly up  to  him,  Guy  Fawkes  felled  hira 
to  the  ground  with  a  blow  from  the  heavy 
butt-end  of  his  petronel.  The  action  was 
not  perceived  by  the  others;  and  carrying 
the  cask  out  of  the  yard,  Fawkes  burst  in 
the  lid,  and  ascertained  that  the  contents 
were  what  they  had  been  represented.  He 
then  glanced  around,  to  see  how  he  could 
best  execute  his  purpose. 

On  the  top  of  the  wall  adjoining  the 
stables,  he  beheld  the  pursuivant,  with 
three  or  four  soldiers,  giving  directions, 
and  issuing  orders.  Another  and  lower 
wall,  forming  the  opposite  side  of  the 
quadrangle,  and  built  on  the  edge  of  the 
moat,  approached  the  scene  of  the  fire,  and 


44 


GUY    F  A  W  K  E  S. 


on  this,  Guy  Fawkes,  with  the  barrel  of 
gunpowder  on  his  shoulder,  mounted. 
Concealing  himself  behind  a  tree  which 
overshadowed  it,  he  watched  a  favorable 
moment  for  his  enterprise. 

He  had  not  to  wait  long.  Prompted  by 
some  unJefinahle  feeling-,  which  caused 
him  to  rush  upon  his  destruction,  the  pur- 
suivant ventured  on  the  roof  of  the  stables, 
and  was  followed  by  his  companions.  No 
sooner  did  this  occur,  than  Guy  Fawkes 
dashed  forward,  and  hurled  the  barrel  wilh 
all  his  force  into  the  midst  of  the  flames, 
throwing  himself  at  the  same  moment 
into  the  moat.  The  explosion  was  instan- 
taneous and  tremendous; — so  loud  as  to 
be  audible  even  under  the  water.  Its  ef- 
fects were  terrible.  The  bodies  of  the 
pursuivant  and  his  companions  were  blown 
into  the  air,  and  carried  to  the  further  side 
of  the  moat.  Of  those  standing  before  the 
building,  several  were  destroyed,  and  all 
more  or  less  injured.  The  walls  were 
thrown  down  by  the  concussion,  and  the 
roof  and  its  fiery  fragments  projected  into 
the  moat.  An  eflectaal  stop  was  put  to 
the  conflagration;  and,  when  Guy  Fawkes 
rose  to  the  boiling  and  agitated  surface  of 
the  water,  the  flames  were  entirely  ex- 
tinguished. Hearing  groans  on  the  oppo- 
site bank  of  the  moat,  he  forced  his  way 
through  the  blazing  beams,  which  were 
hissing  in  the  water;  and  snatching  up  a 
still  burning  fragment,  hastened  in  the 
direction  of  the  sound.  In  the  blackened 
and  mutilated  object  before  him  he  recog- 
nised the  pursuivant.  The  dying  wretch 
also  recognised  him,  and  attempted  to 
speak;  but  in  vain — his  tongue  refused  its 
office;  and  with  a  horrible  attempt  at  arti- 
culation, he  expired. 

Alarmed  by  the  explosion,  the  domes- 
tics, who,  it  has  already  been  mentioned, 
•were  confined  in  the  cellar,  were  rendered 
so  desperate  by  their  fears,  that  they  con- 
trived to  break  out  of  their  prison,  and  now 
hastened  to  the  stables  to  ascertain  the 
cause  of  the  report.  Leaving  them  to  as- 
sist the  sufferers,  whose  dreadful  groans 
awakened  somefeelings  of  compunction  in 
his  iron  breast,  Guy  Fawkes  caught  tlie 
steed — which  had  broken  its  bridle  and 
rushed  off,  and  now  stood  shivering,  shak- 
ing, and  drenched  in   moisture  near  the 


drawbridge — and   mounting    it,    galloped 
towards  the  cave. 

At  its  entrance,  he  was  met  by  Hum- 
phrey Chetham  and  Oldcorne,  who  eager- 
ly inquired  what  had  happened. 

Guy  Fawkes  briefly  explained. 

"It  is  the  hand  of  Heaven  manifested 
by  your  arm,  my  son,"  observed  the  priest. 
"  VVould  that  it  had  stricken  the  tyrant 
and  apostate  prince  by  whom  our  Church 
is  persecuted!  But  his  turn  will  speedily 
arrive." 

"  Peace,  father!"  cried  Guy  Fawkes, 
sternly. 

"  I  do  not  lament  the  fate  of  the  pur- 
suivant," observed  Humphrey  Chetham. 
"  But  this  is  a  frightful  waste  of  human 
life — and  in  such  a  cause!" 

"  It  is  the  cause  of  Heaven,  young  sir," 
rejoined  the  priest,  angrily. 

"  I  do  not  think  so,"  returned  Chetham; 
"  and,  but  for  my  devotion  to  Miss  Rad- 
cliffe,  I  would  have  no  further  share  in 
it." 

"  You  are  at  liberty  to  leave  us,  if  you 
think  proper,"  said  the  priest,  coldly. 

"Nay,  say  not  so,  father,"  interposed 
Viviana,  who  had  been  an  unobserved 
listener  to  the  foregoing  discourse.  "  You 
owe  your  life — your  liberty  to  Master 
Chetham." 

"True,  daughter,"  replied  the  priest. 
"  I  have  been  too  hasty,  and  entreat  his 
forgiveness." 

"You  have  it,  reverend  sir,"  rejoined 
the  young  merchant.  "  And  now,  Mas-, 
ter  Heydocke,"  he  added,  turning  to  the 
steward,  "  you  may  return  to  the  Hall  with 
safety.  No  one  will  molest  you  more,  and 
your  presence  may  be  needed." 

"  But  my  young  mistress — "  said  Hey- 
docke. 

"  I  am  setting  out  for  Holywell  to  join 
my  father,"  replied  Viviana.  "  You  will 
receive  our  instructions  from  that  place." 

"It  is  well,"  returned  the  old  man, 
bowing  respectfully.  "  Heaven  shield  us 
from  further  misfortune!" 

Humphrey  Chetham  having  assisted 
Viviana  into  the  saddle,  and  the  rest  of  the 
party  having  mounted,  they  took  the  road 
to  Chester,  while  Heydocke  returned  to 
the  Hall. 


GUY    FAWKES. 


45 


CHAPTER  XI. 


THE  PILGRIMAGE  TO  SAINT  WINIFRED'S  WELL. 


Early  on  the  following  morning,  the 
party,  who  had  ridden  hard,  and  had  paused 
only  for  a  short  time  at  Knutsford  to  rest 
their  steeds,  approached  the  ancient  and 
picturesque  city  of  Chester.  Skirting  its 
high,  and  then  partly  fortified  walls,  above 
which  appeared  the  massive  tower  of  the 
venerable  cathedral,  they  passed  through 
the  east-gate,  and  proceeding  along  the 
street  deriving  its  name  from  tiiat  entrance, 
were  about  to  halt  before  the  door  of  a 
large  hostel,  called  the  Saint  Werburgh's 
Abbey,  when,  to  their  great  surprise,  they 
perceived  Catesby  riding  towards  them. 

"  I  thought  I  could  not  be  mistaken," 
said  the  latter,  as  he  drew  near  and  saluted 
Viviana.  "  I  was  about  to  set  out  for 
Manchester  with  a  despatch  to  you  from 
your  father,  Miss  Radcliffe,  when  this 
most  unexpected  and  fortunate  encounter 
spares  me  the  journey.  But  may  1  ask 
why  I  see  you  here,  and  thus  attended]" 
he  added,  glancing  uneasily  at  Humphrey 
Chetham. 

A  few  words  from  Father  Oldcorne  ex- 
plained all.  Catesby  affected  to  bend  his 
brow,  and  appear  concerned  at  the  relation. 
But  he  could  scarcely  repress  his  satisfac- 
tion. 

"Sir  William  Radcliffe  inusi,  join  us 
now,"  he  whispered  to  the  priest. 

"  He  must — he  shal/,^^  replied  Oldcorne, 
in  the  same  tone. 

"Your  father  wishes  you  to  join  him  at 
Holt,  Miss  Radcliffe,"  remarked  Catesby, 
turning  to  her,  "whence  the  pilgrimage 
starts  to-morrow  for  Saint  Winifred's  Well. 
There  are  already  nearly  thirty  devout  per- 
sons assembled." 

"Indeed!"  replied  Viviana.  "May  I 
inquire  their  names  ?" 

"  Sir  Everard  and  Lady  Digby,"  replied 
Catesby;  "  Mistress  Anne  Vaux  and  her 
sister,  Mrs.  Brooksby;  Mr.  Ambrose  Jiook- 
wood  and  his  wife,  the  two  Winters,  Tres- 
ham,  Wright,  Fathers  Garnet  and  Fisher, 
and  many  others,  in  all  probability  un- 
known to  you.  The  procession  started  ten 
days  ago  from  Gothurst,  in  Buckingiiam- 
shire,  Sir  Evcsrard  Digby's  resilience,  and 
proceeded  from  thence  by  slow  stages  to 
Norbrook  and  Haddington,  ateacli  of  wliich 
houses  it  halted  for  some  days.  Yesterday, 
it  reached  Holt,  and  starts,  as  I  have  just 
told  you,  to-morrow  for  Holywell.  If  you 
are  so  disposed; you  will  be  able  to  attend 
it." 

"I  will  gladly  do  so,"  replied  Viviana. 
"And,  since  1  find  it  is  not  necessary  to 


hurry  forward,  I  will  rest  myself  for  a 
short  time  here." 

So  saying,  she  dismounted,  and  the 
whole  party  entered  the  hostel.  Viviana 
withdrew  to  seek  a  short  repose,  and  glance 
over  her  father's  letter,  while  Catesby, 
Guy  Fawkes,  and  Oldcorne,  were  engaged 
in  deep  consultation.  Humphrey  Cliet- 
ham,  perceiving  that  his  attendance  was 
no  further  required,  and  that  he  was  an  ob- 
ject of  suspicion  and  dislike  to  Catesby — 
for  whom  he  also  entertained  a  similar 
aversion — prepared  to  return.  And  when 
Viviana  made  her  appearance,  he  advanced 
to  bid  her  farewell. 

"I  can  be  of  no  farther  service  to  you. 
Miss  Radcliffe,"  he  said  in  a  mournful 
tone;  "and  as  my  presence  might  be  as 
unwelcome  to  your  father,  as  it  seems  to 
be  to  others  of  your  friends,  I  will  now 
take  my  leave." 

"F^arewell,  IMaster  Chetham,"  she  re- 
plied. "  1  will  not  attempt  to  oppose 
your  departure;  for,  much  as  I  grieve  to 
lose  you — and  that  I  do  so  these  tears  will 
testify — I  feel  that  it  is  for  the  best.  I 
owe  you  much — more — far  more  than  I 
can  ever  repay.  It  would  be  unworthy  in 
me,  and  unfair  to  you,  to  say  that  1  do 
not,  and  shall  not  ever  feel  the  deepest 
interest  in  you;  that,  next  to  my  father, 
there  is  no  one  whom  I  regard — nay, 
whom  I  love  so  much." 

"  Love!  Viviana]"  echoed  the  young 
merchant,  trembling. 

"Love,  Master  Chetham,"  she  conti- 
nued, turning  very  pale;  "since  you  com- 
pel me  to  repeat  the  word.  I  avow  it 
holdly,  because — "  and  her  voice  faltered — 
"I  would  not  have  3'ou  suppose  me  ungrate- 
ful, and  because  I  never  can  be  yours." 

"  1  will  not  attempt  to  dissuade  you 
from  the  fatal  determination  you  have 
formed  of  burying  your  charms  in  a  clois- 
ter," rejoined  Humphrey  Chetham.  "  But, 
oh!  if  you  clu  love  me,  why  condemn 
yourself — why  condemn  me  to  hopeless 
misery]" 

"  I  will  tell  you  why,"  replied  Viviana. 
"  Because  you  are  not  of  my  faith;  and 
because  I  never  will  wed  a  heretic." 

"  I  am  answered,"  replied  the  young 
merchant,  sadly. 

"Master  Ciietham,"  interposed  Old- 
corne, who  had  approached  them  unper- 
ceived;  "it  is  in  your  power  to  change 
Miss  Hadcliffe's  determination." 

"How!"  asked  the  young  merchant, 
startinsr. 


46 


GUY    FAWKES. 


"  By  being  reconciled  to  the  Cliurch  of 
Rome." 

"Then  it  will  remain  unaltered,"  re- 
plied Chetham  firmly- 

"  And,  if  Master  Clietham  would  con- 
sent to  this  proposal,  /  would  not,"  said 
Viviana.  "Farewell!"  she  added,  ex- 
tending her  hand  to  him,'wliich  he  pressed 
to  his  lips.  "Do  not  let  us  proloncr  an 
interview  so  painful  to  us  both.  Tlie  best 
wish  I  can  desire  for  you  is,  that  we  may 
never  meet  again." 

\Vithout  another  word,  and  without  ha- 
zardinor  a  look  at  the  object  of  his  affec- 
tions, Chetham  rushed  out  of  the  room, 
and,  mounting  his  horse,  rode  off  in  the 
direction  of  Manchester. 

"Daughter,"  said  Oldcorne,  as  soon  as 
he  was  gone,  "I  cannot  too  highly  ap- 
prove of  your  conduct,  or  too  warmly 
applaud  the  mastery  you  display  over  your 
feelings.     But — "  and  lie  hesitated. 

"  But  what,  father]"  cried  Viviana 
eagerly.  "Do  you  think  I  have  done 
wrong  in  dismissing  himl" 

"By  no  means,  dear  daughter,"  re- 
plied the  priest.  "  You  have  acted  most 
discreetly.  But  you  will  forgive  me  if  I 
urge  you — na}%  implore  you  not  to  take 
the  veil;  but  rather  to  bestow  your  hand 
upon  some  Catholic  gentleman " 

"Such  as  Mr.  Catesby,"  interrupted 
Viviana,  glancing  in  the  direction  of  the 
individual  she  mentioned,  who  was  watch- 
ing them  narrowly  from  the  further  end  of 
the  room. 

"Ay,  Mr.  Catesby,"  repeated  Oldcorne, 
affecting  not  to  notice  the  scornful  empha- 
sis laid  on  the  name.  "  None  more  fitting 
could  be  found,  or  more  wortliy  of  you. 
Our  Church  has  not  a  more  zealous  ser- 
vant and  upholder;  and  he  will  be  at  once 
a  father  and  a  husband  to  you.  Such  a 
union  would  be  highly  profitable  to  our 
religion.  And,  though  it  is  well  for  those 
whose  hearts  are  burthened  with  afiliction, 
or  who  are  unable  to  render  any  active 
service  to  their  faith,  to  retire  from  the 
■world,  it  behoves  every  sister  of  the  Ro- 
mish Church  to  support  it,  at  a  juncture 
like  the  present,  at  any  sacrifice  of  per- 
sonal feeling." 

"  Urge  me  no  more,  father,"  replied 
Viviana,  firmly.  "I  will  make  every 
sacrifice  for  my  religion,  consistent  with 
principle  and  feeling.  But  I  will  not 
make  this;  neither  am  I  required  to  make 
it.  And  I  beg  you  will  entreat  Mr. 
Catesby  to  desist  from  further  importu- 
nity." 

Oldcorne  bowed,  and  retired.  Nor  was 
another  sylialile  exchanged  between  them 
prior  to  their  departure. 

Crossing  the  old  bridge  over  the  Dee, 
then  delended  at  each  extremity  by  a  gate 


and  tower,  the  party  took  the  road  to  Holt, 
where  they  arrived  in  about  an  hour.  The 
recent  conversation  had  thrown  a  restraint 
over  them,  which  was  not  removed  during 
the  journey.  Habitually  taciturn,  as  has 
already  been  remarked,  Guy  Fawkes 
seemed  gloomier  and  more  thoughtful  than 
ever;  and  though  he  rode  by  tlie  side  of 
Viviana,  he  did  not  volunteer  a  remark, 
and  scarcely  appeared  conscious  of  her 
presence.  Catesby  and  Oldcorne  kept 
aloof,  and  it  was  not  until  they  came  in 
sight  of  the  little  town  which  formed  their 
destination  that  the  former  galloped  for- 
ward, and  striking  into  the  path  on  the 
right,  bogged  Viviana  to  follow  him.  A 
turn  in  the  road  shortly  afterwards  showed 
them  a  large  mansion  screened  by  a  grove 
of  beech  trees. 

"That  is  the  house  to  which  we  are 
going,"  observed  Catesby. 

And  as  he  spoke,  they  approached  a 
lodge,  the  gates  of  which  being  opened 
by  an  attendant,  admitted  them  to  the 
avenue. 

Viviana's  heart  throbbed  with  delight 
at  the  anticipated  meeting  with  her  father; 
but  she  could  not  repress  a  feeling  of  anx- 
iety at  the  distressing  intelligence  she  had 
to  impart  to  him.  As  she  drew  near  the 
house,  she  perceived  him  walking  beneath 
the  shade  of  the  trees  with  two  other  per- 
sons; and  quickening  her  pace,  sprang 
from  her  steed,  and  almost  before  he  was 
aware  of  it  was  in  his  arms. 

"  Why  do  1  see  you  here  so  unexpect- 
edly, my  dear  child?"  cried  Sir  William 
Radcliffe,  as  soon  as  he  had  recovered 
from  the  surprise,  which  her  sudden  ap- 
pearance occasioned  him.  "  Mr.  Catesby 
only  left  this  morning,  charged  with  a 
letter  entreating  you  to  set  out  without 
delay — and  now  1  beiiold  you.  What  has 
happened]" 

Viviana  then  recounted  the  occurrences 
of  the  last  few  days. 

"  It  is,  then,  as  I  feared,  replied  Sir 
William,  in  a  desponding  tone.  "  Our 
oppressors  will  never  cease  till  they  drive 
us  to  desperation!" 

"  They  will  not!"  rejoined  a  voice  be- 
hind him.  "  Well  may  we  exclaim  with 
the  prophet — 'How  long,  O  Lord,  shall  I 
cry,  and  thou  wilt  not  hear?  Shall  1  cry 
out  to  thee  suffering  violence,  and  thou 
wilt  not  save?  Why  hast  thou  showed  me 
iniquity  and  jjrievance,  to  see  rapine  and 
injustice  before  mc?  Why  lookest  thou 
upon  them  that  do  unjust  things,  and 
boldest  thy  peace  when  the  wicked  de- 
vourelh  the  man  that  is  more  just  than 
himself?'  " 

Viviana  looked  in  the  direction  of  the 
speaker,  and  beheld  a  man  in  a  priestly 
garb,  whose  countenance  struck  her  very 


GUY    FAWKES. 


47 


forcibly.  He  wns  rather  under  the  middle 
lieight,  of  a  slight  spare  figure,  and  in  age 
might  be  about  fifty.  His  features,  which 
in  his  youth  must  have  been  pleasing,  if 
not  handsome,  and  which  were  still  re- 
gular, were  pale  and  emaciated;  but  his 
e)'e  was  dark,  and  of  unusual  brilliancy. 
A  single  glance  at  this  person  satisfied  her 
that  it  was  Father  Garnet,  the  provincial 
of  the  English  .lesuits;  nor  was  she  mis- 
taken in  her  supposition. 

Of  this  remarkable  person,  so  intimate- 
ly connected  with  the  main  events  of  the 
history  about  to  be  related,  it  may  be 
proper  to  offer  some  preliminary  account. 
Born  at  Nottingham  in  1554,  in  the  reign 
of  Queen  Mary,  and  of  obscure  parentage, 
Henry  Garnet  Avas  originally  destined  to 
the  Protestant  Church,  and  educated,  with 
a  view  to  taking  orders,  at  Winchester 
school,  from  whence  it  was  intended  he 
should  be  removed  in  due  course  to  Ox- 
ford. But  this  design  was  never  carried 
into  elTect.  Influenced  by  motives,  into 
which  it  is  now  scarcely  worth  while  in- 
quiring, and  which  have  been  contested 
by  writers  on  both  sides  of  the  question, 
Garnet  proceeded  from  Winchester  to  Lon- 
don, where  he  engaged  iiimself  as  correc- 
ter  of  the  press  to  a  printer  of  law-books, 
named  Tottel,  in  which  capacity  be  be- 
came acquainted  with  Sir  Edward  Coke 
and  Chief  Justice  Popham — one  of  whom 
was  afterwards  to  be  the  leading  counsel 
against  him,  and  the  other  his  judge.  After 
continuing  in  this  employment  for  two 
years,  during  which  he  had  meditated  a 
change  in  his  religion,  he  went  abroad, 
and  travelling  first  to  Madrid,  and  then  to 
Rome,  saw  enough  of  the  Catholic  priest- 
hood to  confirm  his  resolution,  and  in  1575 
he  assumed  the  habit  of  a  Jesuit.  Pur- 
suing his  studies  with  the  utmost  zeal  and 
ardor  at  the  Jesuits'  College,  under  the 
celebrated  I>ellarmine,  and  the  no  less 
celebrated  Clavius,  he  made  such  pro- 
gress, that  upon  the  indisposition  of  the 
latter,  he  was  able  to  fill  the  matliematical 
chair.  Nor  was  he  less  skilled  in  phi- 
losophy, metaphysics,  and  divinity;  and 
his  knowledge  of  Hebrew  was  so  profound, 
that  he  taught  it  publicly  in  the  Roman 
schools. 

To  an  enthusiastic  zeal  in  the  cause  of 
the  religion  he  had  espoused,  Garnet  ad- 
ded great  powers  of  persuasion  and  elo- 
quence— a  combination  of  (|ualities  well 
fitting  him  for  the  office  of  a  missionary 
priest;  and  undismayed  by  the  dangers  he 
would  have  to  encounter,  and  eager  to  pro- 
pagate his  doctrines,  he  solicited  to  be  sent 
on  this  errand  to  his  own  country.  Hav- 
ing, at  the  instance  of  Father  Persons,  re- 
ceived an  appointment  to  the  mission  in 
1586,  he  secretly  landed  in  England  in  the 


same  year.  Braving  every  danger,  and 
shrinking  from  no  labor,  he  sought  on  all 
hands  to  make  proselytes  to  the  ancient 
taith,  and  to  sustain  the  wavering  courage 
of  its  professors.  Two  years  afterwards, 
on  the  imprisonment  of  the  Superior  of  the 
Jesuits,  being  raised  to  that  important  post, 
he  was  enabled  to  extend  his  sphere  of  ac- 
tion; and  redoubling  his  exertions  in  con- 
sequence, he  so  well  discharged  his  duties, 
that  it  was  mainly  owing  to  him  that  the 
Catholic  party  was  kept  together  during 
the  fierce  persecutions  of  the  latter  end  of 
ElizabetlVs  reign. 

Compelled  to  personate  various  charac- 
ters, as  he  travelled  from  place  to  place, 
Garnet  had  acquired  a  remarkable  facility 
for  disguise;  and  such  was  his  address  and 
courage,  that  he  not  unfrequenlly  imposed 
upon  the  very  officers  sent  in  pursuit  of 
him.  Up  to  the  period  of  Elizabeth's  de- 
mise he  had  escaped  arrest;  and,  though 
involved  in  the  treasonable  intrigue  with 
the  king  of  Spain,  and  other  conspiracies, 
he  procured  a  general  pardon  under  the 
great  seal.  His  office  and  profession  na- 
turally brought  him  into  contact  with  the 
chief  Catholic  families  throughout  the 
kingdom;  and  he  maintained  an  active  cor- 
respondence with  many  of  them,  by  means 
of  his  various  agents  and  emissaries.  The 
great  object  of  his  life  being  the  restora- 
tion of  the  fallen  religion,  to  accomplish 
this,  as  he  conceived,  great  and  desirable 
end,  he  was  prepared  to  adopt  any  means, 
however  violent  or  obnoxious.  When, 
under  the  seal  of  confession,  Catesby  re- 
vealed to  him  his  dark  designs,  so  far  from 
discouraging  him,  all  he  counselled  was 
caution.  Having  tested  the  disposition  of 
the  wealthier  Konianisls  to  rise  against 
their  oppressors,  and  finding  a  general  re- 
volt, as  has  before  been  stated,  impractica- 
ble, he  gave  every  encouragement  and  as- 
sistance to  the  conspiracy  forming  among 
the  more  desperate  and  discontented  of  the 
party.  At  his  instigation,  the  present  pil- 
grimage to  Saint  Winifred's  Well  wa's 
undertaken,  in  the  hope  that,  when  so 
large  a  body  of  the  Catholics  were  col- 
lected together,  some  additional  aid  to  the 
project  might  be  obtained. 

One  of  the  most  mysterious  and  inex- 
plicable portions  of  Garnet's  history  is  that 
relating  to  Anne  Vaux.  'I'his  lady,  the 
daughter  of  Lord  Vaux  of  Harrowden,  a 
rigid  Catholic  nobleman,  and  one  of  Gar- 
net's earliest  patrons  and  friends,  on  the 
death  of  her  father,  in  15!)5,  attached  her- 
self to  his  fortunes — accompanied  liim  in 
all  his  missions — shared  all  his  privations 
and  dangers — and,  regardless  of  calunmy, 
or  reproach,  devoted  herself  entirely  to  his 
service.  What  is  not  less  singular,  her 
sister,  who  had  married  a  Catholic  gentle- 


48 


GUY    FAWKES. 


man  named  Brooksby,  hocame  his  equally 
zealous  attendant.  Tiieir  entliusiasm  pro- 
duced a  similar  effect  on  Mr.  Brooksby; 
and  wherever  Garnet  went,  all  three  ac- 
companied him. 

By  his  side,  on  the  present  occasion, 
stood  a  remarkably  handsome  young  man, 
with  a  tall  and  stately  fiirure,  and  a  noble 
countenance.  This  was  Sir  Everard  Dig- 
by.  Accounted  one  of  the  handsomest, 
mostaccomplished,  and  best-informed  men 
of  his  time.  Sir  Everard,  at  the  period  of 
tliis  history  only  twenty-four,  had  mar- 
ried, when  scarcely  sixteen,  Maria,  heiress 
of  the  ancient  and  honorable  family  of 
Mulshoe,  with  whom  he  obtained  a  large 
fortune,  and  the  magnificent  estate  of  Go- 
thurst,  or  Gaythurst,  in  Buckinghamshire. 
Knighted  by  James  the  First  at  Belvoir 
Castle,  on  his  way  from  Scotland  to  Lon- 
don, Sir  Everard,  who  had  once  formed 
one  of  tlie  most  brilliant  ornaments  of  the 
court,  had  of  late  in  a  great  degree  retired 
from  it.  "  Notwitiistanding,"  writes  Fa- 
ther Greenway,  "  that  he  had  dwelt  much 
in  the  Queen's  court,  and  was  in  the  way 
of  obtaining  honors  and  distinction  by  his 
graceful  manners  and  rare  parts,  he  chose 
rather  to  bear  the  cross  with  the  persecu- 
ted Catholics,  et  vivere  abjedus  in  domo 
Domini,  than  to  sail  through  the  pleasures 
of  a  palace  and  the  prosperities  of  the 
world,  to  the  shipwreck  of  his  conscience 
and  the  destruction  of  his  soul."  Having 
only  when  he  completed  his  minority  pro- 
fessed the  Catholic  religion,  he  became 
deeply  concerned  at  its  fallen  state,  and 
his  whole  thoughts  were  bent  upon  its  re- 
storation. This  change  in  feeling  was 
owing  chiefly,  if  not  altogether,  to  Garnet, 
by  whom  his  conversion  had  been  accom- 
plished. 

Digby  was  richly  attired  in  a  black  vel- 
vet doublet,  with  sleeves  slashed  with 
white  satin,  and  wore  a  short  mantle  of 
the  same  material,  similarly  lined.  He 
had  the  enormous  trunk  hose  heretofore 
mentioned  as  the  distinguishing  peculiarity 
of  the  costume  of  the  period,  and  wore 
black  velvet  shoes,  ornamented  with  white 
Toses.  An  ample  rulf  encircled  his  throat. 
His  hat  was  steeple-crowned,  and  some- 
what broader  in  the  leaf  than  was  ordina- 
rily worn,  and  shaded  with  a  plume  of 
black  feathers.  His  hair  was  raven-black, 
and  he  wore  a  pointed  beard,  and  mousta- 
ches. 

By  this  time,  the  group  had  been  joined 
by  the  olliers,  and  a  friendly  greeting  took 
place.  Guy  Fawkes  was  presented  by 
Catesby  to  Sir  William  liadclifle  and  Sir 
Everard  Digby.  To  Garnet  he  required 
no  introduction,  and  Father  Oldcorne  was 
known  to  all.  Aflt^r  a  little  further  con- 
versation, the  party  adjourned  to  the  house 


which  belonged  to  a  Welsh  Catholic  gen- 
tleman, named  Griflllhs,  who,  though  ab- 
sent at  the  time,  had  surrendered  it  to  the 
use  of  Sir  Everard  Digby  and  his  friends. 

On  their  entrance,  Viviana  was  intro- 
duced by  her  father  to  Lady  Digby,  who 
presided  as  hostess,  and  welcomed  her  with 
great  cordiality.  She  was  then  conducted 
to  her  own  room,  where  she  was  speedily 
joined  by  Sir  William,  and  they  remained 
closeted  together  till  summoned  to  the 
principal  meal  of  the  day.  At  the  table, 
which  was  most  hospitably  served,  Vivi- 
ana found,  in  addition  to  her  former  com- 
panions, a  large  assemblage,  to  most  of 
whom  she  was  a  stranger,  consisting  of 
Anne  Vaux,  Mr.  Brooksby  and  his  wife, 
Ambrose  Kookwood,  two  brothers  named 
Winter,  two  Wrights,  Francis  Tresham — ■ 
persons  of  whom  it  will  be  necessary  to 
make  particular  mention  hereafter — and 
several  others,  in  all  amounting  to  thirty. 

The  meal  over,  the  company  dispersed, 
and  Viviana  and  her  father,  passing  tiirough 
an  open  window,  wandered  forth  upon  a 
beautiful  and  spreading  lawn,  and  thence 
under  the  shade  of  the  beech-trees.  They 
had  not  been  long  here,  anxiously  confer- 
ring on  recent  events,  when  they  perceived 
Garnet  and  Catesby  approaching. 

"  Father,  dear  father!"  cried  Viviana, 
hastily,  "  I  was  about  to  warn  you;  but  I 
have  not  time  to  do  so  now.  Some  dark 
and  dangerous  plot  is  in  agitation  to  restore 
our  religion.  Mr.  Catesby  is  anxious  to 
league  you  with  it.  Do  not — do  not  yield- 
to  his  solicitations!" 

"  Fear  nothing  on  that  score,  Viviana," 
replied  Sir  William;  "  I  have  already  per- 
plexities enow,  without  adding  to  them." 

"I  will  leave  you,  then,"  she  replied. 
And,  as  soon  as  the  others  came  up,  she 
made  some  excuse  for  withdrawing,  and 
returned  to  the  house.  The  window  of 
her  chamber  commanded  the  avenue,  and 
from  it  she  watched  the  group.  They 
remained  for  a  long  time  pacing  up  and 
down,  in  earnest  conversation.  By  and  by, 
they  were  joined  by  Oldcorne  and  Fawkes. 
Then  came  a  third  party,  consisting  of  the 
two  Winters  and  two  Wrights;  and  lastly. 
Sir  Everard  Digby  and  Tresham  swelled 
the  list.  The  assemblage  was  then  ha- 
rangued by  Catesby,  and  the  most  pro- 
found attention  paid  to  his  address.  Vi- 
viana kept  her  eye  fixed  upon  her  father's 
countenance,  and  from  its  changing  ex- 
pression inferred  what  effect  the  speech 
l)roduced  upon  him.  At  its  conclusion, 
the  assemblage  se])arated  in  little  groups; 
and  she  perceived,  with  great  uneasiness, 
that  Father  Garnet  passed  his  arm  through 
that  of  her  father,  and  led  him  away.  Some 
time  elapsed,  and  neither  of  them  re-ap- 
peared. 


GUY    F  A  W  K  E  S. 


49 


"  My  warning  vrzs  in  vain,  lie  Aas  joined 
them!"  slie  exclaimed. 

"  No,  Viviana!"  cried  her  father's  voice 
behind  her.  "I  have  nol  joined  them. 
Nor  s/iall  I  do  so." 

"  Heaven  be  praised!"  she  exclaimed, 
flinging-  her  arms  around  his  neck. 

Neither  of  them  were  aware  that  they 
were  overheard  by  Garnet,  who  had  noise- 
lessly followed  Sir  William  into  the  room, 
and  muttered  to  himself — "  For  all  this, 
he  shal/  join  the  plot,  and  she  shall  wed 
Catesby. 

He  then  coughed  slightly,  to  annonnce 
his  presence;  and,  apologising  to  Viviana 
for  the  intrusion,  told  her  he  came  to  con- 
fess her  previously  to  the  celebration  of 
mass,  which  would  take  place  that  evening, 
in  a  small  chapel  in  the  house.  Wholly 
obedient  to  the  command  of  her  spiritual 
advisers,  Viviana  instantly  signified  her 
assent;  and,  her  father  having  withdrawn, 
she  laid  open  the  inmost  secrets  of  her 
heart  to  the  Jesuit.  Severely  reprobating 
her  love  for  a  heretic,  before  he  would  give 
her  absolution,  Garnet  enjoined  her,  as  a 
penance,  to  walk  barefoot  to  Saint  Wini- 
fred's Well  on  the  morrow,  and  to  make  a 
costly  offering  at  her  shrine.  Compliance 
being  promised  to  his  injunction,  he  pro- 
nounced the  absolution,  and  departed. 

Soon  after  this,  mass  was  celebrated  by 
Garnet  and  the  two  priests,  and  the  sacra- 
ment administered  to  the  assemblage. 

An  hour  before  daybreak,  the  party 
again  assembled  in  the  chapel,  where  ma- 
tins were  performed;  after  which,  the 
female  devotees,  who  were  clothed  in 
snow-white  woollen  robes,  with  wide 
sleeves  and  hoods,  and  having  large  black 
crosses  woven  in  front,  retired  for  a  short 
time,  and  re-appeared,  with  their  feet  bared, 
and  hair  unbound.  Each  had  a  large  rosary 
attached  to  the  cord  that  bound  her  waist. 

Catesby  thought  Viviana  had  never  ap- 
peared so  lovely  as  in  this  costume;  and 
as  he  gazed  at  her  white  and  delicately 
formed  feet,  her  small  rounded  ankles,  her 
dark  and  abundant  tresses  falling  in  show- 
ers almost  to  the  ground,  he  became  more 
deeply  enamored  than  before.  His  pas- 
sionate gaze  was,  however  unnoticed,  as 
the  object  of  it  kept  her  eyes  steadily 
fixed  on  the  ground.  Lady  Digby,  who 
was  a  most  beautiful  woman,  scarcely  ap- 
peared to  less  advantage;  and,  as  she 
walked  side  by  side  with  Viviana  in  the 
procession,  the  pair  attracted  universal  ad- 
miration from  all  who  beheld  them. 

Everything  being  at  last  in  readiness, 
and  the  order  of  march  fully  arranged,  two 
youthful  choristers,  in  surplices,  ciianting 
a  hymn  to  Saint  Winifred,  set  forth. — 
They  were  followed  by  two  men  bearing 
silken  banners,  on  one  of  which  was  dis- 


played the  martyrdom  of  the  saint  whose 
shrine  they  were  about  to  visit,  and  on  the 
other  a  lamb  carrying  a  cross;  next  came 
Fathers  Oldcorne  and  Fisher,  each  sus- 
taining a  large  silver  crucifix;  next,  Gar- 
net alone,  in  the  full  habit  of  his  order; 
next,  the  females  in  the  attire  before  de- 
scribed, and  walking  two  and  two;  next 
Sir  Everard  Digby,  and  Sir  William  Rad- 
clifTe;  and  lastly,  the  rest  of  the  pilgrims, 
to  the  number  of  fourteen.  These  were 
all  on  foot.  But  at  the  distance  of  fifty 
paces  behind  them  rode  Guy  Fawkes  and 
Catesby,  at  the  head  of  twenty  well-armed 
and  well-mounted  attendants,  intended 
to  serve  as  a  guard  in  case  of  need. 

In  such  order,  this  singular  precession 
moved  forward  at  a  slow  pace,  taking  its 
course  along  a  secluded  road  leading  to  the 
ridge  of  hills  extending  from  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Wrexham  to  Mold,  and  from 
thence,  in  an  almost  unbroken  chain,  to 
Holywell. 

Along  these  heights,  whence  magnificent 
views  were  obtained  of  the  broad  estuary 
of  the  Dee  and  the  more  distant  ocean,  the 
train  proceeded  without  interruption;  and 
though  the  road  selected  was  one  seldom 
traversed,  and  through  a  country  thinly 
peopled,  still,  the  rumor  of  the  pilgrimage 
having  gone  abroad,  hundreds  were  sta- 
tioned at  different  points  to  behold  it. 
Some  expressions  of  disapprobation  were 
occasionally  manifested  by  the  spectators; 
but  the  presence  of  the  large  armed  force 
effectually  prevented  any  interference. 

Whenever  such  a  course  could  be  pur- 
sued, the  procession  took  its  way  over  the 
sward.  Still  the  sufferings  of  the  females 
were  severe  in  the  extreme;  and  before 
Viviana  had  proceeded  a  mile  her  soft  and 
tender  feet  were  cut  and  bruised  by  the 
sharp  flints  over  which  she  walked;  every 
step  she  took  leaving  a  bloody  print  be- 
hind it.  Lady  Digby  was  in  little  better 
condition.  But  such  was  the  zeal  by 
which  they,  in  common  with  all  the  other 
devotees  following  them,  were  animated, 
that  not  a  single  murmur  was  uttered. 

Proceeding  in  this  way,  they  reached  at 
mid-day  a  small  stone  chapel  on  the  sum- 
mit of  the  hill  overlooking  Plasnewydd, 
where  they  halted,  and  devotions  being 
performed,  the  females  bathed  their  lace- 
rated limbs  in  a  neighboring  brook,  after 
which  they  were  rubbed  with  a  cooling  and 
odorous  ointment.  Thus  refreshed,  they 
again  set  ibrward,  and  halting  a  second 
time  at  Plasiaf,  where  similar  religious 
ceremonies  were  observed,  they  rested  for 
the  day  at  a  lodging  prepared  for  tiieir  re- 
ception in  the  vicinity  of  Mold. 

The  niglit  being  passed  in  jiraycr,  early 
in  the  morning  they  commenced  their 
march  in  the  same  order  as  bolbrc.    When 


60 


GUY     FAWKES. 


Viviana  first  set  her  feet  to  the  ground,  she 
felt  as  if  she  were  treading  on  hot  iron, 
and  tlie  pain  she  endured,  was  so  excruci- 
ating, that  she  could  not  repress  a  cry. 

"  Heed  not  your  sutTerings,  dear  daugh- 
ter," observed  Garnet,  compassionately. 
"The  waters  of  the  holy  fountain  will 
heal  the  wounds  hoth  of  soul  and  body." 

Overcoming  her  agony  by  a  powerful 
effort,  she  contrived  to  limp  forward;  and 
the  whole  party  was  soon  after  in  motion. 
Halting  for  two  hours  at  Pentre-Terfyn, 
and  again  at  Skcviog,  the  train,  towards 
evening,  reached  the  summit  of  the  hill 
overlooking  Holywell,  at  the  foot  of  which 
could  be  seen  the  reverend  walls  of  Ba- 
singwerk  Abbey,  and  the  roof  of  the 
ancient  chapel  erected  over  the  sacred 
spring.  At  this  sight,  those  who  were 
foremost  in  the  procession  fell  on  their 
knees;  and  the  horsemen  dismounting,  imi- 
tated their  example.  An  earnest  supplica- 
tion to  8aint  Winifred  was  then  poured 
forth  by  Father  Garnet,  in  which  all  the 
others  joined,  and  a  hymn  in  her  honor 
chaunted  by  the  choristers. 

Their  devotions  ended,  the  whole  train 
arose,  and  walked  slowly  down  the  deep 
descent.  As  they  entered  the  little  town, 
which  owes  its  name  and  celebrity  to  the 
miraculous  spring  rising  within  it,  they 
were  met  by  a  large  concourse  of  people, 
who  had  flocked  from  Flint  and  the  other 
neighboring  places  to  witness  the  ceremo- 
nial. INlost  of  tiie  inhabitants  of  Holywell 
holding  their  saintly  patroness  in  the  deep- 
est veneration,  viewed  this  pilgrimage  to 
her  slirine  as  a  proper  tribute  of  respect, 
while  those  of  tiie  opposite  faith  were 
greatly  impressed  by  it.  As  the  proces- 
sion advanced,  the  crowd  divided  into  two 
lines  to  allow  it  passage,  and  many  fell  on 
their  knees  imploring  a  blessing  from  Gar- 
net, which  he  in  no  instance  refused. 
When  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  sa- 
cred well,  they  were  met  by  a  priest  fol- 
lowed by  another  small  train  of  pilgrims. 
A  Latin  oration  having  been  pronounced 
by  this  priest,  and  replied  to  in  the  same 
language  by  Garnet,  the  train  was  once 
more  put  in  motion,  and  presently  reached 
the  ancient  fabric  built  over  the  sacred 
fountain. 

The  legend  of  Saint  W'inifred  is  so  well 
known,  that  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  re- 
peat it.  P"'or  the  benefit  of  the  uninformed, 
however,  it  may  be  staled  that  she  flour- 
ished about  the  middle  of  the  seventh 
century,  and  was  the  daughter  of  Thewith, 
one  of  the  chief  lords  of  \Vales.  Devoutly 
educated  by  a  monk  named  I3euno,  who 
afterwards  received  canonization,  she  took 
the  veil,  and  retired  to  a  small  monastery 
(the  ruins  of  which  still  exist),  built  by 
her  father  near  the  scene  of  her  subsequent 


martyrdom.  Persecuted  by  the  addresses 
of  Caradoc,  son  of  Alan,  Prince  of  Wales, 
she  fled  from  him  to  avoid  his  violence. 
He  followed,  and,  inflamed  by  fury  at  her 
resistance,  struck  off"  her  head.  For  this 
atrocity,  the  earth  instantly  opened  and 
swallowed  him  alive,  while  from  the  spot 
where  the  head  had  fallen  gushed  forth  a 
fountain  of  unequalled  force  and  purity, 
producing  more  than  a  hundred  tons  a 
minute.  The  bottom  of  this  miraculous 
well,  even  at  the  present  day,  is  strewn 
with  pebbles  streaked  with  red  veins,  in 
memory  of  the  virgin  saint  from  whose 
blood  it  sprung.  On  its  margin  grows  an 
odorous  moss,  while  its  gelid  and  translu- 
cent waters  are  esteemed  a  remedy  for 
many  disorders.  Winifred's  career  did 
not  terminate  with  her  decapitation.  Re- 
suscitated by  the  prayers  of  Saint  Beuno, 
she  lived  many  years  a  life  of  the  utmost 
sanctity,  bearing,  as  a  mark  of  the  miracle 
performed  in  her  behalf,  a  narrow  crimson 
circle  round  her  throat. 

Passing  the  chapel  adjoining  the  well, 
built  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Seventh  by 
his  mother,  the  pious  Countess  of  Rich- 
mond, the  pilgrims  came  to  the  swift  clear 
stream  rushing  from  the  well.  Instead  of 
ascending  the  steps  leading  to  the  edifice 
built  over  the  spring,  they  plunged  into 
the  stream,  and  crossing  it,  entered  the 
structure  by  a  doorway  on  the  further  side. 
Erected  by  the  Countess  of  Richmond  at 
the  same  period  as  the  chapel,  this  struc- 
ture, quadrangular  in  form,  and  of  great 
beauty,  consists  of  light  clustered  pillars 
and  mouldings,  supporting  the  most  gor- 
geous tracery  and  groining,  the  whole  be- 
ing ornamented  with  sculptured  bosses, 
pendent  capitals,  fretwork,  niches,  and 
tabernacles.  In  the  midst  is  a  large  stone 
basin,  to  receive  the  water  of  the  fountain, 
around  which  the  procession  now  grouped, 
and,  as  soon  as  all  were  assembled,  at  the 
command  of  Father  Garnet  they  fell  on 
their  knees. 

It  was  a  solemn  and  striking  sight  to 
see  this  large  group  prostrated  around  that 
beautiful  fountain,  and,  covered  by  that 
ancient  structure — a  touching  thing  to  hear 
the  voice  of  prayer  mingling  with  the 
sound  of  the  rushing  water.  After  this, 
they  all  arose.  A  hymn  was  then 
chaunted,  and  votive  off'erings  made  at  the 
shrine  of  the  saint.  The  male  portion 
of  the  assemblage  then  followed  Garnet 
to  the  chapel,  where  further  religious 
rites  were  performed,  while  the  female 
devotees,  remaining  near  the  fountain,  re- 
signed themselves  to  the  care  of  several 
attendants  of  their  own  sex,  who,  having 
bathed  their  feet  in  the  water,  applied 
some  of  the  fragrant  moss  above  described 
to  the  wounds;  and,  such  was  the  faith  of 


GUY    FAWKES. 


51 


the  patients,  or  the  virtue  of  the  applica- 
tion, tliat  in  a  short  time  tliey  all  felt  per- 
fectly restored,  and  able  to  join  their  com- 
panions in  the  chapel.  In  this  way,  the 
evening  was  spent;  and  it  was  not  until 
late  that  they  finished  their  devotions,  and 
departed  to  the  lodgings  provided  for  tiiem 
in  the  town. 

Impressed  with  a  strange  superstitious 
feeling,  which  he  would  scarcely  acknow- 
ledge to  himself,  Guy  Fawkes  determined 
to  pass  the  night  near  the  well.  Accord- 
ingly, without  communicating  his  inten- 
tion to  his  companions,  he  threw  a  small 
knapsack  over  his  shoulder,  containing  a 
change  of  linen,  and  a  few  articles  of  at- 
tire, and  proceeded  thither.  It  was  a 
brilliant  moonlight  night,  and,  as  the  radi- 
ance, streaming  through  the  thin  clustered 
columns  of  the  structure,  lighted  up  its 
fairy  architecture,  and  fell  upon  the  clear 
cold  waves  of  the  fountain,  revealing  the 
blood-streaked  pebbles  beneath,  the  etTect 
was  inexpressibly  beautiful.  So  charmed 
was  Guy  Fawkes  by  the  sigiit,  that  he  re- 
mained for  some  time  standing  near  the 
edge  of  the  basin,  as  if  fascinated  by  the 
marvellous   spring    that    boiled    up    and 


sparkled  at  his  feet.  Resolved  to  try  the 
efficacy  of  the  bath,  he  threw  off  his 
clothes,  and  plunged  into  it.  The  water 
was  cold  as  ice;  but  on  emerging  from  it 
he  felt  wonderfully  refreshed.  Having 
dressed  himself,  he  wrapped  his  cloak 
around  him,  and  throwing  himself  on  the 
stone  floor,  placed  the  knapsack  under  his 
head,  and  grasping  a  petronel  in  his  right 
hand,  to  be  ready  in  case  of  a  surprise, 
disposed  himself  to  slumber.  Accustomed 
to  a  soldier's  couch,  he  soon  fell  asleep. 
He  had  not  long  closed  his  eyes  when  he 
dreamed  that  from  out  the  well,  a  female 
figure,  slight  and  unsubstantial  as  the  ele- 
ment from  which  it  sprung,  arose.  It 
was  robed  in  what  resembled  a  nun's  garb; 
but  so  thin  and  vapoury,  that  the  very 
moonlight  shone  through  it.  From  the 
garments  of  the  figure,  as  well  as  from  the 
crimson  circle  round  its  throat,  he  knew 
that  it  must  be  the  patroness  of  the  place, 
the  sainted  Winifred,  that  he  beheld.  He 
felt  no  terror,  but  the  deepest  awe.  The 
arm  of  the  figure  was  raised — its  benignant 
regards  fixed  upon  him — and,  as  soon  as  it 
gained  the  level  of  the  basin,  it  glided  to- 
wards him. 


CHAPTER    XII. 


THE  VISION. 


Before  daybreak  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, Garnet,  who  had  been  engaged  in 
earnest  conference  with  Catesby  during 
the  whole  of  the  night,  repaired  to  the 
sacred  spring  for  the  purpose  of  bathing 
within  it,  and  performing  his  solitary  de- 
votions at  the  shrine  of  the  saint.  On 
ascending  the  steps  of  the  structure,  he 
perceived  Guy  Fawkes  kneeling  beside 
the  fountain,  apparently  occupied  in  prayer; 
and,  being  unwilling  to  disturb  him,  he 
paused.  Finding,  however,  after  the  lapse 
of  a  few  minutes,  that  he  did  move,  he  ad- 
vanced towards  him,  and  was  about  to  lay 
his  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  when  he  was 
arrested  by  the  very  extraordinary  expres- 
sion of  his  countenance.  His  lips  were 
partly  open,  but  perfectly  motionless,  and 
his  eyes,  almost  starting  from  their  sockets, 
were  fixed  upon  the  boiling  waters  of  the 
spring.  His  hands  were  clasped,  and  his 
look  altogether  was  that  of  one  whose 
faculties  were  suspended  by  awe  or  terror. 
Aware  of  the  fanatical  and  enthusiastic 
character  of  Fawkes,  Garnet  had  little 
doubt  that,  by  keeping  long  vigil  at  the 
fountain,  he  had  worked  himself  into  such 
a  state  of  over-excitement  as  to  imagine 
he  beheld  some  preternatural  appearance; 


and  it  was  with  some  curiosity  that  he 
awaited  the  result.  Ciiancing  in  the  same 
direction,  his  eye  rested  upon  the  bottom 
of  the  well,  but  he  could  discern  nothing 
except  the  glittering  and  bloodstreaked 
pebbles,  and  the  reflection  of  the  early 
sunbeams  that  quivered  on  its  steaming 
surface.  At  length,  a  convulsion  passed 
over  the  frame  of  the  knceler,  and  heaving 
a  deep  sigh,  he  arose.  Turning  to  quit 
the  spring,  he  confronted  Garnet,  and  de- 
manded in  a  low  voice, 

"  Have  you  likewise  seen  the  vision?" 

Garnet  made  no  reply,  but  regarded  liim 
steadfastly. 

"  Has  the  blessed  Winifred  appeared  to 
you,  I  say?"  continued  Fawkes. 

"No,"  answered  Ciarnet;  "I  am  but 
just  come  hither.  It  is  for  you,  my  son — 
the  favored  of  heaven — for  whom  such 
glorious  visions  arc  reserved.  1  have 
seen  nothing.  How  did  the  saint  mani- 
fest herself  to  you]" 

"  In  her  earthly  form,"  replied  Fawkes; 
"or  rattier,  I  sliould  say,  in  the  semblance 
of  the  form  she  bore  on  earth.  Listen  to 
me,  father.  I  came  hither  last  night  to 
make  my  couch  beside  the  fountain.  After 
plunging  into  it,  I  felt  marvellously  re- 


52 


GUY     F  A  ^V  K  E  S. 


freshed,  and  disposed  m)'self  to  rest  on 
that  stone.  Scarcely  had  ray  eyes  closed 
when  the  saintly  virgin  appeared  to  nne. 
Oh!  father,  it  was  a  vision  of  seraphic 
beauty,  such  as  the  eye  of  man  haih  sel- 
dom seen!" 

"And  such  only  as  it  is  permitted  the 
elect  of  heaven  to  see,"  observed  Garnet. 

"Alas!  father,"  rejoined  Guy  Fawkes, 
"I  can  lay  no  claim  to  such  an  epithet. 
Nay,  1  begin  to  fear  that  I  have  incurred 
the  displeasure  of  heaven," 

"Think  not  so, my  son,"  replied  Garnet, 
uneasily.  "Relate  your  vision,  and  1  will 
interpret  it  to  you." 

"Thus  then  it  was,  father,"  returned 
Fawkes.  "The  figure  of  the  saint  arose 
from  out  the  well,  and,  gliding  towards 
me,  laid  its  finger  upon  my  brow.  My 
eyes  opened,  but  1  was  as  one  oppressed 
with  a  night-mare,  unable  to  move.  1 
then  thought  1  heard  my  name  pronounced 
by  a  voice  so  wondrousjy  sweet  that  my 
senses  were  quite  ravished.  Fain  would 
1  have  prostrated  myself,  but  my  limbs  re- 
fused their  office.  Neither  could  I  speak, 
for  my  tongue  was  also  enchained." 

"  Proceed,  my  son,"  said  Garnet;  "  I 
am  curious  to  know  what  ensued." 

"  Father,"  replied  Guy  Fawkes,  "  if 
the  form  1  beheld  w'as  that  of  .Saint  Wini- 
fred— and  that  it  was  so,  I  cannot  doubt — 
the  enterprise  on  which  we  are  engaged 
will  fail.  It  is  not  approved  by  Heaven. 
The  vision  warned  me  to  desist." 

"  You  cannot  desist,  my  son,"  rejoined 
Garnet,  sternly.  "  Your  oath  binds  you 
to  the  project." 

"  True,"  replied  Fawkes;  "  and  I  have 
no  thought  of  abandoning  it.  But  I  am 
well  assured  it  will  not  be  successful." 

"  Your  thinking  so,  my  son,  will  be  the 
most  certain  means  of  realising  your  appre- 
hensions," replied  Garnet,  gravely.  "But, 
let  me  hear  the  exact  words  of  the  spirit. 
You  may  have  misunderstood  them." 

"  1  cannot  repeat  them  precisely,  fa- 
ther," replied  Fawkes;  "  but  I  could  not 
misapprehend  their  import,  which  was  the 
deepest  commiseration  for  our  forlorn  and 
fallen  church,  but  a  positive  interdiction 
against  any  attempt  to  restore  it  by  blood- 
shed. '  Suffer  on,'  said  the  spirit;  '  bear 
the  yoke  patiently,  and  in  due  season  God 
will  avenge  your  wrongs,  and  free  you 
from  oj)pression.  You  are  thus  afllicted 
that  your  faith  may  be  purified.  But  if 
you  resort  to  violence,  you  will  breed  con- 
fusion, and  injure,  not  serve,  the  holy 
cause  on  which  you  are  embarked.'  Such, 
father,  was  the  language  of  the  saint.  It 
was  uttered  in  a  tone  so  tender  and  sym- 
pathising, that  every  word  found  an  echo 
in  my  heart,  and  I  repented  having  pledged 
myself  to  the  undertaking.     But,  when  I 


tell  you  tliat  she  added  that  all  concerned 
in  the  conspiracy  should  perish,  perhaps, 
you  may  be  deterred  from  proTieeding 
further." 

"  Never!"  returned  Garnet.  "  Nor  will 
I  suffer  any  one  engaged  in  it  to  retreat. 
What  matter  if  a  few  perish,  if  the  many 
survive.  Our  blood  will  not  be  shed  ia 
vain,  if  the  true  religion  of  God  is  restored. 
Nay,  as  strongly  as  the  blessed  Winifred 
herself  resisted  the  impious  ravisher,  Cara- 
doc,  will  I  resist  all  inducements  to  turn 
aside  from  my  purpose.  It  may  be  that  the 
enterprise  icill  fail.  It  may  be  that  we 
shall  perish.  But  if  we  die  thus,  we  shall 
die  as  martyrs,  and  our  deaths  will  be 
highly  profitable  to  the  Catholic  religion." 

"  I  doubt  it,"  observed  Fawkes. 

"  My  son,"  said  Garnet,  solemn^,  "I 
have  ever  looked  upon  you  as  one  destined 
to  be  the  chief  agent  in  the  great  work  of 
redemption.  I  have  thought  that,  like 
Judith,  you  were  chosen  to  destroy  the 
Holofernes  who  oppresses  us.  Having 
noted  in  you  a  religious  fervor,  and  reso- 
lution admirably  fitting  you  for  the  task, 
I  thought,  and  still  tliink  you  expressly 
chosen  by  Heaven  for  it.  But,  if  you  have 
any  misgiving,  I  beseech  j"ou  to  withdraw 
from  it.  I  will  absolve  j'ou  from  your 
oath;  and  enjoining  you  only  to  strictest 
secrecy,  will  pray  you  to  depart  at  once, 
lest  your  irresolution  should  be  communi- 
cated to  the  others." 

"  P'ear  nothing  from  me,  father,"  rejoin- 
ed Fawkes.  "I  have  no  irresolution,  no" 
wavering,  nor  shall  any  engaged  with  us 
be  shaken  by  my  apprehension.  You  have 
asked  me  what  I  saw  and  heard,  and  I 
have  told  you  truly.  But  I  will  speak  of 
it  no  more." 

"  It  will  be  well  to  observe  silence,  my 
son,"  answered  Garnet;  "for  though  you, 
like  myself,  are  unnerved,  its  effect  on 
others  might  be  injurious.  But  5-ou  have 
not  yet  brought  3'our  relation  to  an  end. 
How  did  the  figure  disappear?" 

"  As  it  arose,  father,"  replied  Fawkes. 
"  Uttering  in  a  sweet  but  solemn  voice, 
which  yet  rings  in  my  ears,  the  words, 
'  Be  warned!'  it  glided  back  to  the  foun- 
tain, whose  waves  as  it  approached  grew 
still,  and  gradually  melted  from  my  view." 

"  But  when  I  came  hither  you  appeared 
to  be  gazing  at  the  spring,"  said  Garnet. 
"  What  did  you  then  behold]" 

"  My  first  impulse  on  awaking  about  an 
hour  ago,"  replied  Fawkes,  "  was  to  pros- 
trate myself  before  the  fountain,  and  to 
entreat  the  intercession  of  the  saint,  who 
had  thus  marvellously  revealed  herself  to 
me.  As  I  prayed,  methought  its  clear 
lucid  waters  became  turbid,  and  turned  to 
the  color  of  blood." 

"  It  is  a  type  of  the  blood  shed  by  slaugh- 


GUY    FAWKES. 


53 


tered  brethren  of  our  faith,"  rejoined  Gar- 
net. 

"  Rather  of  our  own,  whicli  shall  be 
poured  forth  in  this  cause,"  retorted 
Fawkes.  "No  matter,  1  am  prepared 
to  lose  the  last  drop  of  mine." 

"  And  I,"  said  Garnet;  "and,  I  doubt 
not,  like  those  holy  men  who  have  suficred 
for  their  faith,  that  we  shall  both  win  a 
crown  of  martyrdom." 

"Amen!"  exclaimed  Fawkes.  "And 
you  think  the  sacrifice  we  are  about  to 
offer  will  prove  acceptable  to  God?" 

"  I  am  convinced  of  it,  my  son,"  an- 
swered Garnet.  "And  I  take  the  sainted 
virgin,  from  whose  blood  this  marvellous 
spring  was  produced,  to  witness  that  I  de- 
vote myself  unhesitatingly  to  the  project, 
and  that  I  firmly  believe  it  will  profit  our 
churcli." 

As  he  spoke,  a  singular  circumstance 
occurred,  which  did  not  fail  to  produce  an 
impression  on  the  superstitious  minds  of 
both  parties — especially  Guy  Fawkes.  A 
violent  gust  of  wind,  apparently  suddenly 
aroused,  whistled  through  the  slender  co- 
lumns of  the  structure,  and  catching  the 
surface  of  the  water,  dashed  it  in  tiny 
waves  against  their  feet. 

"The  saint  is  offended,"  observed 
Fawkes. 

"  It  would  almost  seem  so,"  replied 
Garnet,  after  a  pause.  "  Let  us  proceed 
to  the  chapel,  and  pray  at  her  shrine.  We 
will  confer  on  this  matter  hereafter. — 
Meantime,  swear  to  me  that  you  will  ob- 


serve profound  secrecy  respecting  this  vi- 
sion." 

"  I  swear,"  replied  Guy  Fawkes. 

At  this  moment,  another  and  more  vio- 
lent gust  agitated  the  fountain. 

"We  will  tarry  here  no  longer,"  said 
Garnet.  "I  am  not  proof  against  these 
portents  of  ill." 

So  saying,  he  led  the  way  to  the  chapel. 
Here  they  were  presently  joined  by  several 
of  the  female  devotees,  including  Viviana, 
Anne  Vaux,  and  Lady  Digby.  Matins 
were  then  said,  after  which  various  ofier- 
ings  v.'ere  made  at  the  shrine  of  the  saint. 
Lady  Digby  presented  a  small  tablet  set 
in  crold,  representing  on  one  side  the  mar- 
tyrdom of  Saint  Winifred,  and  on  the  other 
the  Salutation  of  our  Lady.  Anne  Vaux 
gave  a  small  enamelled  cross  of  gold;  Vi- 
viana a  girdle  of  the  same  metal,  with  a 
pendant  sustaining  a  small  Saint  John's 
head  surrounded  with  pearls. 

"  INIine  will  be  a  poor  soldier's  offering," 
said  Guy  Fawkes,  approaching  the  shrine, 
which  was  hung  around  with  the  crutches, 
staves  and  bandages  of  those  cured  by  the 
miraculous  spring.  "This  small  silver 
scallop-shell  given  me  by  a  pilgrim,  who 
died  in  my  arms  near  the  chapel  of  Saint 
James  of  Compostella,  in  Spain,  is  the 
sole  valuable  I  possess." 

"  It  will  be  as  acceptable  as  a  more 
costly  gift,  my  son,"  replied  Garnet,  pla- 
cing it  on  the  shrine. 

Of  all  the  offerings  then  made,  that  sil- 
ver scallop-shell  is  the  only  one  preserved. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 


THE  CONSPIRACY. 


On  Viviana's  return  from  her  devotions, 
she  found  her  father  in  the  greatest  pertur- 
bation and  alarm.  The  old  steward,  Hey- 
docko,  who  had  ridden  express  from  Ord- 
sall  Hall,  had  just  arrived,  bringing  word 
that  the  miserable  fate  of  the  pursuivant 
and  his  crew  had  aroused  the  whole  coun- 
try; that  officers,  attended  by  a  strong  force, 
and  breathing  vengeance,  were  in  pursuit 
of  Sir  William  Radcliffe  and  his  daughter; 
that  large  sums  were  olTered  for  the  cap- 
ture of  Guy  Fawkes  and  Father  Oldcorne; 
that  most  of  the  servants  were  imprisoned; 
that  he  himself  had  escaped  with  great 
difficulty;  and  that,  to  sum  up  tiiis  long 
catalogue  of  calamities.  Master  Hum- 
phrey Chetham  was  arrested,  and  placed 
in  the  New  Fleet.  "In  short,  niy  dear 
young  mistress,  concluded  the  old  man, 
"  as  1  have  just  observed  to  Sir  William, 


all  is  over  with  us,  and  there  is  nothing 
left  but  the  grave." 

"  What  course  have  you  resolved  upon,' 
dear  father]"  said  Viviana  turning  anx- 
iously to  him. 

"I  shall  surrender  myself,"  he  an- 
swered. "I  am  guilty  of  no  crime,  and 
can  easily  clear  myself  from  all  imputa- 
tion." 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  replied  Viviana. 
"  Do  not  hope  for  justice  from  those  who 
know  it  not.  But  while  the  means  of 
escape  are  allowed  you,  avail  yourself  of 
thern." 

"No,  Viviana,"  replied  Sir  \Villiam 
Radcliffe,  firmly;  "my  part  is  taken.  I 
shall  abide  the  arrival  of  the  officers.  For 
you,  1  shall  intrust  you  to  the  care  of  Mr. 
Catesby," 

"  You  cannot  mean  this,  dear  father," 


54 


GUY     FA  W  K  E  S. 


cried  Viviana,  with  a  look  of  cHstress. 
"  And  if  you  do,  I  will  never  consent  to 
sucli  an  arrangement. 

"iNlr.  Catesby  is  strongly  attached  to 
you,  cliild,"  replied  Sir  William,  "and 
will  watch  over  your  safety  as  carefully 
as  I  could  do  myself." 

"  He  may  be  attached  to  me,"  rejoined 
Viviana;  ''though  I  doubt  the  disinterest- 
edness of  his  love.  But  nothing  can  alter 
my  repugnance  to  liim.  Forgive  mo, 
therefore,  if  in  this  one  instance  I  decline 
to  obey  your  commands.  I  dare  not  trust 
myself  with  Mr.  Catesby." 

"  How  am  I  to  understand  youl"  in- 
quired Sir  William. 

"  Do  not  ask  me  to  explain,  dear  fa- 
ther," she  answered,  "but  imagine  I  must 
have  good  reason  for  what  I  say.  Smce 
you  are  resolved  upon  surrendering  your- 
self, I  will  go  into  captivity  with  you. 
The  alternative  is  less  dreadful  than  that 
you  have  pro])osed." 

"You  distract  me,  child,"  cried  the 
knight,  rising  and  pacing  the  chamber  in 
great  agitation.  "  I  cannot  bear  the 
thought  of  your  imprisonment.  Yet  if  I 
fly,  1  appear  to  confess  myself  guilty." 

"  If  your  worship  will  intrust  Mistress 
Viviana  with  me,"  interposed  the  old 
steward,  "  I  will  convey  her  whithersoever 
you  direct — will  watch  over  her  day  and 
night — and,  if  need  be,  die  in  her  de- 
fence." 

"  Thnu  wert  ever  a  faithful  servant, 
good  Heydocke,"  rejoined  Sir  William, 
extending  his  hand  kindly  to  him,  "and 
art  as  true  in  adversity  as  in  prosperity." 

"Shame  to  me  if  1  were  not,"  replied 
Heydocke,  pressing  the  knight's  fingers 
to  his  lips,  and  bathing  them  in  his  tears. 
"Shame  to  me  if  I  hesitated  to  lay  down 
my  lif<^  for  a  master  to  whom  I  owe  so 
much." 

"If  it  is  your  pleasure,  dear  fiither," 
observed  Viviana,  "I  will  accompany 
Master  Heydocke;  but  I  would  far  rather 
be  permitted  to  remain  with  you." 

"It  would  avail  nothing,"  replied  Sir 
William;  "we  should  be  separated  by 
the  officers.  Retire  to  your  chamber,  and 
prepare  for  instant  departure.  And  in  the 
mean  time  I  will  consider  what  is  best  to 
be  done." 

"Your  worship's  decision  must  be 
speedy,"  observed  Heydocke:  "  I  had 
only  a  few  hours'  start  of  the  oflicers. 
They  will  be  here  ere  long." 

"Take  this  purse,"  replied  Sir  Wil- 
liam, "  and  hire  three  of  the  fleetest  horses 
you  can  procure,  and  station  yourself  at 
the  outskirts  of  the  town,  on  the  road  to 
Saint  Asaph.     You  understand." 

"  Perfectly,"  replied  Heydocke.  And 
he  departed  to  execute  his  master's  com- 


mands, while  Viviana  withdrew  to   her 
own  cliamber. 

Left  alone,  the  knight  was  perplexing 
himself  as  to  where  he  should  shape  his 
course,  when  he  was  interrupted  by  the 
sudden  entrance  of  Catesby  and  Garnet. 

"  We  have  just  met  your  servant.  Sir 
William,"  said  the  former;  "  and  have 
learned  the  alarming  intelligence  he  has 
brought." 

"What  is  your  counsel  in  this  emer- 
gency, father]"  said  RadcliflTe,  appealing 
to  Garnet. 

"  Flight — instant  flight,  my  son,"  was 
the  answer. 

"  My  counsel  is  resistance,"  said  Cates- 
by. "  We  are  here  assembled  in  large 
numbers,  and  are  well  armed.  Let  us 
await  the  arrival  of  the  officers,  and  see 
whether  they  will  v(?nturc  to  arrest  j'ou." 

"They  will  arrest  us  all,  if  they  have 
force  sufficient  to  do  so,"  replied  Garnet; 
"  and  there  are  many  reasons,  as  you  well 
know,  why  it  is  desirable  to  avoid  any 
disturbance  at  present." 

"True,"  replied  Catesby.  "What  say 
you  then,"  he  continued,  addressing  Kad- 
cliffe,  "to  our  immediate  return  to  Holt, 
where  means  may  be  found  to  screen  you 
till  this  storm  is  blown  over]" 

Sir  William  having  assented  to  the 
proposal,  Cateshy  instantly  departed  to 
acquaint  the  others;  and,  as  soon  as  pre- 
parations could  be  made,  and  horses  pro- 
cured, the  whole  party  composing  the 
pilgrimage,  quitted  Holywell,  and  ascend-- 
ing  the  hill  at  the  back  of  the  town,  took 
the  direction  of  Mold,  where  they  arrived, 
having  ridden  at  a  swift  pace,  in  about 
half  an  hour.  From  thence  they  proceed- 
ed without  accident  or  interruption,  to  the 
mansion  they  had  recentlj^  occupied  near 
Holt.  On  reaching  it,  all  the  domestics 
were  armed,  and  certain  of  tiieir  number 
stationed  at  the  different  approaches  to 
the  house  to  give  the  alarm  in  case  of  a 
surprise.  But  as  nothing  occurred  during 
the  night,  the  fears  of  Sir  William  and 
his  friends  began  in  some  degree  to  sub- 
side. 

About  noon,  on  the  following  day,  as 
Guy  Fawkes,  who  ever  since  the  vision  he 
had  beheld  at  Saint  WiniiVed's  AVell  had 
shunned  all  companionship,  walked  forth 
beneath  the  avenue  alone,  lie  heard  a  light 
step  behind  him,  and,  turning,  beheld 
Viviana.  Gravely  bowing,  he  was  about 
to  pursue  his  course,  when,  quickening 
her  pace,  Viviana  was  instantly  by  his 
side.  • 

"  I  have  a  favor  to  solicit,"  she  said. 

"There  is  none  I  would  refuse  j'ou, 
Miss  Hadclille,"  answered  Fawkes,  halt- 
ing; "  but,  though  I  have  the  will,  I  may 
not  have  the  power  to  grant  your  request." 


GUY    FAWKES. 


55 


"  Hear  me,  then,"  she  replied,  hurried- 
ly. "  Of  all  my  father's  friends — of  all 
who  are  here  assembled,  you  are  the  only 
one  1  dare  trust— the  only  one  from  whom 
I  can  hope  for  assistance." 

"I  am  at  once  flattered  and  perplexed 
by  your  words,  Miss  Radclifle,"  he  re- 
joined; "nor  can  I  guess  whither  they 
tend.  But  speak  freely.  If  I  cannot  ren- 
der you  aid,  I  can  at  least  give  you  coun- 
sel." 

"I  must  premise,  then,"  said  Viviana, 
"that  I  am  aware,  from  certain  obscure 
hints  let  fall  by  Father  Oldcorne,  that  you, 
Mr.  Catesby,  and  others  are  eno-aged  in  a 
dark  and  dangerous  conspiracy." 

"  Miss  Radcliffe,"  returned  Guy  Fawkes, 
sternly,  "you  have  once  before  avowed 
your  knowledge  of  this  plot.  I  will  not 
attempt  disguise  with  you.  A  project  is 
in  agitation  for  the  deliverance  of  our  fallen 
church;  and,  since  you  have  become  ac- 
quainted with  its  existence — no  matter 
how — you  must  be  bound  by  an  oath  of 
secrecy,  or,"  and  his  look  grew  darker, 
and  his  voice  sterner,  "  I  will  not  answer 
for  j'our  life." 

"I  will  willingly  take  the  oath,  on  cer- 
tain conditions,"  said  Viviana. 

"You  must  take  it  unconditionally," 
rejoined  Fawkes. 

"  Hear  me  out,"  said  Viviana.  "  Know- 
ing that  Mr.  Catesby  and  Father  Garnet 
are  anxious  to  induce  my  father  to  join 
this  conspiracy,  I  came  hither  to  implore 
you  to  prevent  him  from  doing  so." 

"  Were  1  even  willing  to  do  this — 
which  1  am  not,"  replied  Fawkes,  "  I  have 
not  the  power.  Sir  William  Radcliffe 
would  be  justly  indignant  at  any  interfer- 
ence on  my  part." 

"  Heed  not  that,"  replied  Viviana. 
"  You,  I  fear,  are  linked  to  this  fearful 
enterprise  beyond  redemption.  But  he  is 
not.     Save  him!  save  him!" 

"I  will  take  no  part  in  urging  him  to 
join  it,"  replied  Fawkes.  "But  I  can 
undertake  nothing  further." 

"Then  mark  me,"  she  returned;  "if 
further  attempts  are  made  by  any  of  your 
confederates  to  league  him  with  their 
plot,  I  myself  will  disclose  all  1  know  of 
it.'"' 

"  IMiss  Radcliffe,"  rejoined  Fawkes,  in 
a  threatening  tone,  "I  again  warn  you  that 
you  endanger  your  life." 

"I  care  not,"  rejoined  Viviana;  "I 
would  risk  twenty  lives,  if  1  possessed 
them,  to  preserve  my  father." 

"You  are  a  noble-hearted  lady,"  re- 
plied Fawkes,  unable  to  repress  tlie  admi- 
ration with  wliieli  her  conduct  inspired 
him;  "and  if  I  can  accomplish  what  you 
desire,  I  will.  But  I  see  not  how  it  can 
be  done." 


"  Everything  is  possible  to  one  of  your 
resolution,"  re])lied  Viviana. 

"  Well,  well,"  replied  Fawkes,  a  slight 
smile  crossing  his  swarthy  features;  "  the 
effort  at  least  shall  be  made." 

"  Thanks!  thanks!"  ejaculated  Viviana. 
And,  overcome  by  her  emotions,  she  sank 
half-fiiinting  into  his  arms. 

While  he  held  her  thus,  debating  within 
himself  whether  he  should  convey  her  to 
the  house.  Garnet  and  Catesby  appeared 
at  the  other  end  of  the  avenue.  Their  sur- 
prise at  the  sight  was  extreme;  nor  was  it 
lessened  when  Viviana,  opening  her  eyes 
as  they  drew  near,  uttered  a  slight  cry, 
and  disappeared. 

"This  requires  some  explanation,"  said 
Catesby,  glancing  fiercely  at  Fawkes. 

"You  must  seek  it,  then,  of  the  lady," 
rejoined  the  latter,  moodily. 

"  It  will  be  easily  explained,  I  have  no 
doubt,"  interposed  Garnet.  Miss  Rad- 
cliffe was  seized  with  a  momentary  weak- 
ness, and  her  companion  offered  her  sup- 
port." 

"  That  will  scarcely  suffice  for  me," 
cried  Catesby. 

"Let  the  subject  be  dropped  for  the 
present,"  said  Garnet,  authoritatively. 
"  More  important  matter  claims  our  atten- 
tion. We  came  to  seek  you,  my  son,"  he 
continued, addressing  Fawkes.  "All  those 
engaged  in  the  great  enterprise  are  about 
to  meet  in  a  summer-house  in  the  gar- 
den." 

"  I  am  ready  to  attend  you,"  replied 
Fawkes.  "  Will  Sir  William  Radcliffe 
be  there]" 

"  No,"  replied  Garnet;  "  he  has  not  yet 
joined  us.  None  will  be  present  at  this 
meeting,  but  the  sworn  conspirators." 

With  this,  the  trio  took  their  way  to- 
wards the  garden,  and  proceeding  along  a 
walk  edged  with  clipped  yew-trees,  came 
to  the  summer-house — a  small  circular 
building  overrun  with  ivy  and  creepers, 
and  ornamented  in  front  by  two  stone 
statues  on  pedestals.  Here  they  found 
Sir  Everard  Digby,  Ambrose  Rookwood, 
Francis  Tresliam,  Thomas  and  Robert 
Winter,  John  and  Christopher  Wright, 
awaiting  their  arrival. 

The  door  being  closed  and  bolted.  Gar- 
net placing  himself  in  the  midst  of  llie  as- 
semblage said,  "  Before  we  proceed  further, 
I  will  again  administer  the  oath  to  all  pre- 
sent." Drawing  from  his  vest  a  primer, 
and  addressing  Sir  Everard  Digby,  he  de- 
sired him  to  kneel,  and  continued  thus  in 
a  solemn  tone,  "  You  shall  swear  by  the 
Blessed  Trinity,  and  by  the  sacrament  you 
propose  to  receive,  never  to  disclose,  di- 
rectly nor  indirectly,  l)y  word  or  circum- 
stance, the  matter  that  shall  be  ])ropose(i 
to  you  to  keep  secret,  nor  desist  from  the 


56 


GUY    FAWKES. 


execution  thereof,  until  the  rest  shall  give 
you  leave." 

"  I  swear,"  replied  Digby,  kissing  the 
primer. 

The  oath  was  then  administered  in  like 
manner  to  the  others.  This  done,  Catesby 
was  about  to  address  the  meeting,  when 
Tresham,  glancing  uneasily  at  the  door, 
said,  "  Are  you  assured  we  have  no  eaves- 
droppers'?" 

"  I  will  keep  watch  without,"  observed 
Fawkes,  "  if  you  have  any  fears." 

"It  were  better,"  replied  Robert  Win- 
ter. "  We  cannot  be  too  cautious.  But 
if  you  go  forth,  you  will  be  able  to  take 
no  part  in  the  discussion." 

"  My  part  is  to  act,  not  talk,"  rejoined 
Fawkes,  marching  towards  the  door. — 
And,  shutting  it  after  him,  he  took  up  his 
position  outside. 

"  This  precaution  taken,  we  can  secure- 
ly proceed  with  the  discussion,"  observed 
Sir  Everard  Digby. 

"  We  can,"  replied  Catesby.  And  he 
thereupon  commenced  a  long  and  inflam- 
matory harangue,  in  which  he  expatiated 
with  great  eloquence  and  fervor  on  the 
wrongs  of  the  Catholic  party,  and  the 
deplorable  condition  of  its  church.  "  It 
were  easy  to  slay  the  tyrant  by  whom  we 
are  oppressed,"  he  said,  in  conclusion; 
"but  his  destruction  would  be  small  gain 
to  us.  We  must  strike  deeper  to  hew 
down  the  baneful  stock  of  heresy.  All 
our  adversaries  must  perisli  with  him, 
and  in  such  manner  as  shall  best  attest 
the  vengeance  of  Heaven.  A  mine  of 
powder  placed  beneath  the  Parliament- 
house  shall  hurl  it  and  its  heretical  occu- 
pants into  the  air — nor  shall  any  one  sur- 
vive the  terrible  explosion.  Are  we  all 
agreed  to  this  plan^' 

All  the  conspirators  expressed  their  as- 
sent, except  Sir  Everard  Uigby. 

"  i3efore  I  give  m}"^  concurrence  to  the 
measure,"  said  the  latter,  "  I  would  fain 
be  resolved  by  Father  Garnet  whether  it 
is  lawful  to  destroy  some  few  of  our  own 
faith  with  so  many  heretics." 

"  Unquestionably,  my  son,"  replied 
Garnet.  "  As  in  besieging  a  city  we  have 
a  right  to  kill  all  within  it,  whether  friends 
or  enemies,  so  in  this  case  we  are  justified 
in  destroying  the  innocent  with  the  guilty, 
because  their  destruction  will  be  advan- 
tageous to  the  Oatholic  cause." 

"I  am  satisfied,"  replied  Difjby. 

"As  to  the  tj^rant  and  apostate  James," 
continued  Garnet,  "  he  is  excommunica- 
ted, and  his  subjects  released  from  their 
allegiance.  I  have  two  breves  sent  over 
by  his  holiness  Pope  Clement  YIII,  in 
1601,  one  directed  to  the  clergy,  and  the 
other  to  the  nobility  of  this  realm,  where- 
in, alluding  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  it  is  ex- 


pressly declared  that,  'so  soon  as  that 
miserable  woman  should  depart  out  of  this 
life,  none  shall  be  permitted  to  ascend  the 
throne,  how  near  soever  in  proximity  of 
blood,  unless  they  are  such  as  will  not 
only  tolerate  the  Catholic  faith,  but  ia 
every  way  support  it.'  By  this  brief, 
James  is  expressly  excluded.  He  has  be- 
trayed, not  supported,  the  church  of  Rome. 
Having  broken  his  word  with  us,  and  op- 
pressed our  brethren  more  rigorously  even 
than  his  predecessor,  the  remorseless 
Elizabeth,  he  is  unworthy  longer  to  reign, 
and  must  be  removed." 

"He  must,"  said  the  conspirators. 

"The  Parliament-liouse  being  the  place 
where  all  the  mischief  done  us  has  been 
contrived  by  our  adversaries,  it  is  fitting 
that  it  should  be  the  place  of  their  chas- 
tisement," said  Catesby. 

"  Doubtless,"  observed  Ambrose  Rook- 
wood. 

"If  the  blow  we  meditate,  should  mis- 
carry," observed  Thomas  Winter,  "  the 
injury  to  the  Catholic  religion  will  be  so 
great,  that  not  onlj'  our  enemies,  but  our 
very  friends  will  condemn  us." 

"  There  is  no  chance  of  miscarriage,  if 
we  are  true  to  each  other,"  said  Catesby, 
confidentl)\  "  And  if  I  suspected  any  one 
of  treachery,  I  would  plunge  my  sword  in- 
to his  bosom,  were  he  my  brother." 

"  You  would  do  wrong  to  act  thus  on 
mere  suspicion,"  remarked  Tresham,  who 
stood  near  him. 

"  In  a  case  like  this,  he  who  gave  the 
slightest  ground  for  doubt  would  merit 
death,"  replied  Catesby,  sternly;  "  and  I 
would  slay  him." 

"Hum!"  exclaimed  Tresham,  uneasily. 

"  Mr.  Catesby  will  now  perhaps  inform 
us  what  has  been  done  to  carry  the  project 
into  effect]"  said  Sir  Everard  Digby. 

"A  small  habitation  has  been  taken  by 
one  of  our  chief  confederates,  Mr.  Thomas 
Percy,  immediately  adjoining  the  Parlia- 
ment-house," replied  Catesby,  "  from  the 
cellar  of  which  it  is  proposed  to  dig  a  mine 
through  the  wall  of  the  devoted  building, 
and  to  deposit  within  it'a  sufficient  quan- 
tity of  gunpowder,  and  other  combustibles, 
to  accomplish  our  purpose.  This  mine 
must  be  digged  by  ourselves,  as  we  can 
employ  no  assistants,  and  will  be  a  labo- 
rious and  dangerous  task.  But  I  for  one 
will  cheerfully  undertake  it." 

"  And  1,"  said  the  elder  Wright. 

"  And  I,"  cried  several  others. 

"  Supposing  the  mine  digged,  and  the 
powder  deposited,"  observed  Ambrose 
Rookwood,  "  whose  hand  will  fire  the 
train]" 

"  Mine!"  cried  Guy  Fawkes,  throwing 
open  the  door.  As  soon  as  he  had  spo- 
ken, he  retired  and  closed  it  after  him. 


GUY     FAWKES. 


57 


"  He  will  keep  his  word,"  remarked 
Garnet.  "  He  is  of  a  nature  so  resolute 
that  he  would  destroy  himself  with  the 
victims  rather  than  fail.  If  ever  man  was 
created  to  be  the  main  agent  of  a  conspi- 
racy, it  is  Guy  Fawkes." 

"  Well,  gentlemen,"  said  Catesby,  "  we 
are  now  at  the  latter  end  of  July.  All 
shall  be  ready  against  the  meeting  of  Par- 
liament in  November." 

"There  is  some  likelihood,  I  hear,  that 
the  meeting  of  the  house  will  be  pro- 
rogued till  February,"  remarked  Tresham. 

"  So  much  the  better,"  rejoined  Catesby; 
•"it  will  give  us  more  time  for  prepara- 
tion." 

"So  much  the  worse,  I  think,"  said 
Ambrose  Rookwood.  •'  Delays  are  ever 
dangerous,  and  doubly  so,  in  a  case  like 
ours." 

"  I  am  far  from  desiring  to  throw  any 
impediment  in  the  way  of  our  design," 
observed  Sir  Everard  Digby.  "  But  I 
would  recommend,  before  we  proceed  to 
this  terrible  extremity,  that  one  last  effort 
should  be  made  to  move  the  king  in  our 
behalf." 

"  It  is  useless,"  replied  Catesby.  "  So 
far  from  toleration,  he  meditates  severer 
measures  against  us;  and  I  am  well  as- 
sured if  Parliament  is  allowed  to  meet, 
such  laws  will  be  passed  as  will  bring  all 
of  us  within  premunire.  No,  no;  we  have 
no  hope  from  James,  nor  his  ministers." 

"  Nor  yet  from  France  or  Spain,"  ob- 
served 'I'homas  Winter.  "  In  my  confe- 
rence with  the  Constable  Velasco  at  Ber- 
gen, I  received  assurances  of  the  good- 
will of  Philip  towards  us,  but  no  distinct 
promise  of  interference  in  our  behalf.  The 
Archduke  Albert  is  well  disposed,  but  he 
can  render  no  assistance.  We  must  de- 
pend upon  ourselves." 

"Ay,  marry,  must  we,"  replied  Cates- 
by; "  and  fortunate  is  it  that  we  have  de- 
vised a  plan  by  which  we  can  accomplish 
our  purpose  unaided.  We  only  require 
funds  to  follow  up  with  effect  the  blow  we 
shall  strike." 

"  My  whole  fortune  shall  be  placed  at 
your  disposal,"  replied  Sir  Everard  Digby. 

"  Part  of  mine  has  already  been  given," 
said  Tresham,  "and  the  rest  shall  follow." 

"  Would  I  had  aught  to  peril  in  the  mat- 
ter except  my  life,"  said  Catesby.  "  1 
would  throw  everything  upon  the  stake." 

"  You  do  enough  in  adventuring  thus 
much,  my  son,"  rejoined  Garnet.  "  To 
you  the  whole  conduct  of  the  enterprise  is 
committed." 

"I  live  for  nothing  else,"  rep'ied  Cates- 
by; "and  if  I  see  it  successful,  I  shall 
have  lived  long  enough." 

"  Cannot  Sir  William  Radcliffe  be  in- 
duced  to  join    usJ"    asked    Kookwood. 

6 


"  He  would  be  an  important  acquisition; 
and  his  wealth  would  prove  highly  ser- 
viceable." 

"  I  have  sounded  him,"  answered  Cates- 
by.    "  But  he  appears  reluctant." 

"Be  not  satisfied  with  one  attempt," 
urged  Christopher  Wright.  "  The  jeo- 
pardy in  which  he  now  stands  may  make 
him  change  his  mind." 

"  I  am  loth  to  interrupt  the  discussion," 
said  Garnet:  "  but  I  think  we  have  tarried 
here  long  enough.  We  will  meet  again 
at  midnight,  when  I  hope  to  introduce  Sir 
William  Radcliffe  to  you  as  a  confede- 
rate." 

The  party  then  separated,  and  Garnet 
went  in  search  of  the  knight. 

Ascertaining  that  he  was  in  his  own 
chamber,  he  proceeded  thither,  and  found 
him  alone.  Entering  at  once  upon  the 
subject  in  hand,  Garnet  pleaded  his  cause 
with  so  much  zeal,  that  he  at  last  wrung 
a  reluctant  consent  from  the  listener. 
Scarcely  able  to  conceal  his  exultation,  he 
then  proposed  to  Sir  William  to  adjourn 
with  him  to  the  private  chapel  in  the  house, 
where,  having  taken  the  oath,  and  received 
the  sacrament  upon  it,  he  should  be  forth- 
with introduced  to  the  conspirators,  and 
the  whole  particulars  of  the  plot  revealed 
to  him.  To  this  the  knight,  with  some 
hesitation  agreed.  As  they  traversed  a 
gallery  leading  to  the  chapel,  they  met 
Viviana.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life 
Radcliffe's  gaze  sank  before  his  daughter, 
and  he  would  have  passed  her  without 
speaking  had  she  not  stopped  him. 

"  Father!  dear  father!"  she  cried,  "  I 
know  whither  you  are  going — and  for 
what  purpose.  Do  not — do  not  join  them." 

Sir  William  Radclifi'e  made  no  reply, 
but  endeavored  gently  to  push  her  aside. 

She  would  -not,  however,  be  repulsed, 
but  prostrating  herself  before  him,  clasped 
his  knees,  and  besought  him  not  to  pro- 
ceed. 

Making  a  significant  gesture  to  Sir 
William,  Garnet  walked  forward. 

"  Viviana,"  said  the  knight,  sternly, 
"  my  resolution  is  taken.  1  command  you 
to  retire  to  your  chamber." 

So  saying,  he  broke  from  her,  and  fol- 
lowed Garnet.  Clasping  her  hands  to  her 
brow,  Viviana  gazed  for  a  moment  with  a 
frenzied  look  after  him,  and  then  rushed 
from  the  gallery. 

On  reaching  the  chapel.  Sir  William 
who  had  been  much  shaken  by  this  meet- 
ing, was  some  minutes  in  recovering  his 
composure.  Garnet  employed  the  time  in 
renewing  his  arguments,  and  with  so  much 
address  that  he  succeeded  in  quieting  the 
scruples  of  conscience  which  had  been 
awakened  in  the  knight's  breast  by  his 
dauirhter's  warning. 


58 


GUY    FAWKES. 


"  And  now,  my  son,"  he  said,  "  since 
you  have  determined  to  enrol  your  name 
in  the  list  of  those  who  have  sworn  to  de- 
liver their  church  from  oppression,  take 
this  primer  in  your  hand,  and  lineel  down 
before  the  altar,  while  I  administer  the  oath 
■which  is  to  unite  you  to  us." 

Garnet  then  advanced  towards  the  altar, 
and  .Sir  William  was  about  to  prostrate 
himself  upon  a  cushion  beside  it,  wiien 
the  door  was  suddenly  thrown  open,  and 
Guy  Fawkes  strode  into  the  chapel. 

"Hold!"  he  exclaimed,  graspintr  Rad- 
cliflTe's  right  arm,  and  fixintr  his  dark 
glance  upon  him;  "you  shall  not  take 
that  oath." 

"  What  mean  you?"  cried  Garnet,  who, 
as  well  as  the  kniorht,  was  paralysed  with 
astonishment  at  this  intrusion.  "  Sir  Wil- 
liam Kadclifie  is  about  to  join  us." 

"  I  know  it,"  replied  Fawkes;  "but  it 
may  not  be.  He  has  no  heart  in  the  busi- 
ness, and  will  lend  it  no  efhcient  assist- 
ance. We  are  better  without  him,  than 
with  him." 

As  he  spoke  he  took  the  primer  from  the 
knight's  hand,  and  laid  it  upon  the  altar. 

"This  conduct  is  inexplicable,"  cried 
Garnet,  angrily.  "  You  will  answer  for 
it  to  others,  as  well  as  to  me." 

"I  will  answer  for  it  to  all,"  replied 
Guy  Fawkes.  Let  Sir  William  Radclifto 
declare  before  me  and  before  Heaven,  that 
he  approves  the  measure,  and  I  am  content 
he  sliould  take  the  oath." 

"  I  cannot  belie  my  conscience  by  say- 
ing so,"  replied  the  knight,  who  appeared 
agitated  by  conflicting  emotions. 

"Yet  you  have  promised  to  join  us," 
cried  Garnet,  reproachi'ully. 

"  Better  break  that  promise  than  a  so- 
lemn oath,"  rejoined  Guy  Fawkes,  sternly. 
"Sir  William  Radciitle,  there  are  reasons 
■why  you  should  not  join  this  conspiracy. 
Examine  your  inmost  heart,  and  it  will  tell 
you  what  they  are." 

"I  understand  you,"  replied  the  knight. 

"  Get  hence,"  cried  Garnet,  unable  to 
control  his  indignation,  "  or  I  will  pro- 
nounce our  church's  most  terrible  maledic- 
tion against  you." 

"  I  shall  not  shrink  from  it,  father,"  re- 
joined Fawkes  humljjy,  but  firmly,  "see- 
ing that  I  am  acting  rightly." 

"  Undeceive  yourself,  then  at  once," 
returned  Garnet,  "  and  learn  that  you  are 
thwarting  our  great  and  holy  purpose." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  replied  Fawkes,  "I 
am  promoting  it,  l)y  preventing  one  from 
joining  it  who  will  endanger  its  success." 

"  You  are  a  traitor!"  cried  Garnet, 
furiously. 

"A  traitor!"  exclaimed  Guy  Fawkes, 
his  eye  blazing  with  fierce  lustre,  though 
his  voice  and  demeanor  were  unaltered — 


"  I,  ■n-ho  have  been  warned  thrice — twice 
by  the  dead,  and  lastly  by  a  vision  from 
heaven,  yet  still  remain  firm  to  my  pur- 
pose— 1,  who  have  voluntarily  embraced 
the  most  dangerous  and  difficult  part  of 
the  enterprise — I,  who  would  suffer  the 
utmost  extremity  of  torture,  rather  than 
utter  a  word  that  should  reveal  it — a 
traitor!  No,  father,  I  am  none.  If  you 
think  so,  take  this  sword  and  at  once  put 
an  end  to  your  doubts." 

There  was  something  so  irresistible  in 
the  manner  of  Guy  Fawkes,  that  Garnet 
remained  silent. 

"Do  with  me  what  you  please,"  con- 
tinued Fawkes,  "but  do  not  compel  Sir 
W'illiam  Radcliffe  to  join  the  conspiracy. 
He  will  be  fatal  to  it." 

"  No  one  shall  compel  me  to  join  it," 
replied  the  knight. 

"  Perhaps  it  is  better  thus,"  said  Gar- 
net, after  a  pause,  during  which  tie  was 
buried  in  reflection.  "1  will  urge  you  no 
further,  my  son.  But  before  you  depart 
you  must  swear  not  to  divulge  what  you 
have  just  learnt." 

"  Willin.^^ly,"  replied  the  knight. 

"There  is  another  person  who  must 
also  take  that  oath,"  said  Guy  Fawkes, 
"  having  accidentally  become  acquainted 
with  as  much  as  yourself." 

And  stepping  out  of  the  chapel,  he  imme- 
diately afterwards  returned  with  Viviana. 

"  You  will  now  understand  why  I 
would  not  allow  Sir  William  to  join  the 
conspiracy,"  he  observed  to  Garnet. 

"  1  do,"  replied  the  latter  gloomily. 

The  oath  administered,  the  knight  and 
his  daughter  quitted  the  chapel,  accom- 
panied by  Guy  Fawkes.  Viviana  was 
profuse  in  her  expressions  of  gratitude, 
nor  was  her  father  less  earnest  in  his  ac- 
knowledgments. 

A  few  hours  after  this.  Sir  William 
Radclille  informed  Sir  Everard  Digby  that 
it  was  his  intention  to  depart  immediately, 
and,  though  the  latter  attempted  to  dis- 
suade him  from  his  purpose  by  represent- 
ing the  danger  to  which  he  would  be 
exposed,  he  continued  inflexible.  The 
announcement  surprised  both  Catesbyand 
Garnet,  who  were  present  when  it  was 
made,  and  added  their  dissuasions  to 
those  of  Digby — but  without  effect.  To 
Catesby's  proposal  to  serve  as  an  escort, 
Radcliffe  likewise  gave  a  preremptory  re- 
fusal, stating  that  he  had  no  fears;  and 
when  questioned  as  to  his  destination,  he 
returned  an  evasive  answer.  This  sudden 
resolution  of  the  knight,  coupled  with  his 
refusal  to  join  the  plot,  alarmed  the  con- 
spirators, and  more  than  one  expressed 
fears  of  treachery.  Sir  Everard  Digby, 
however,  was  not  of  the  number,  but 
asserted,   "  Radcliffe  is    a    man    of   the 


GUY    FAWKES 

ill  answer   for  his 


59 


highest  honor.      I 
secresy  with  my  life." 

"  Will  you  answer  for  that  of  his  daugh- 
ter?" said  Tresham. 

"/will,"  replied  Fawkes. 

"To  put  the  matter  beyond  a  doubt," 
said  Catesby,  "  I  will  set  out  shortly  after 
him,  and  follow  him  unobserved  till  he 
halts  for  the  night,  and  ascertain  whether 
he  stops  at  any  suspicious  quarter." 

"  Do  so,  my  son,"  said  Garnet. 

"It  is  needless,"  observed  Sir  Everard 
Digby;  "  but  do  as  j^ou  please." 

By  this  time,  Radclifle's  horses  being 
brought  round  by  Heydocke,  he  and  his 
daughter  took  a  hasty  leave  of  their 
friends.  When  they  had  been  gone  a  few 
minutes,  Catesby  called  for  his  steed; 
and,  after  exchanging  a  word  or  two  with 
Garnet,  rode  after  them.  He  had  scarcely 
proceeded  more  than  a  couple  of  miles 
along  a  cross-road  leading  to  Nantwich, 
■which  he  learnt  from  some  cottagers  was 
the  route  taken  by  the  party  before  him, 
when  he  heard  the  tramp  of  a  horse  in  the 
rear,  and  turning  at  the  sound,  beheld  Guy 
Fawkes.  Drawing  in  the  bridle,  he  lialted 
till  the  latter  came  up,  and  angrily  de- 
manded on  what  errand  he  was  bent. 

"  My  errand  is  the  same  as  your  own," 
replied  Fawkes.  "  I  intend  to  follow  Sir 
William  RadclifTe,  and,  if  need  be,  defend 
him," 

Whatever  Catesby's  objections  might  be 
to  this  companionship,  he  did  not  think  fit 
to  declare  them,  and,  though  evidentl}'^ 
much  displeased,  suffered  Guy  Fawkes  to 
ride  by  his  side  without  opposition. 

Having  gained  the  summit  of  the  moun- 
tainous range  extending  from  Malpas  to 
Tottenhall,  whence  they  beheld  the  party 
whose  course  they  were  tracking  enter  a 


fearful  of  losing  sight  of  them,  set  spurs  to 
his  steed.  Guy  Fawkes  kept  close  beside 
him,  and  they  did  not  slacken  their  pace 
until  they  reached  the  lane. 

They  had  not  proceeded  along  it  more 
than  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  when  they  were 
alarmed  by  the  sudden  report  of  hre-arms, 
followed  by  a  loud  shriek,  which  neither 
of  them  doubted  was  uttered  by  Viviana. 
Again  dashing  forward,  on  turning  a  cor- 
ner of  the  road,  they  beheld  the  party  sur- 
rounded by  half  a  dozen  troopers.  Sir 
William  Radcliffe  had  shot  one  of  his  as- 
sailants, and,  assisted  by  Heydocke,  was 
defending  himself  bravely  against  the 
others.  With  loud  shouts,  Catesby  and 
Guy  Fawkes  galloped  towards  the  scene 
of  strife.  But  they  were  too  late.  A  bul- 
let pierced  the  knight's  brain;  and.  no 
sooner  did  he  fall,  than,  regardless  of  him- 
self, the  old  steward  flung  away  his  sword, 
and  threw  himself,  with  the  most  piteous 
lamentations,  on  the  body. 

Viviana,  meanwhile,  had  been  compelled 
to  dismount,  and  was  in  the  hands  of  the 
troopers.  On  seeing  her  father's  fate,  her 
shrieks  were  so  heart-piercing,  that  even 
her  captors  were  moved  to  compassion. 
Fighting  his  way  towards  her,  Catesby 
cut  down  one  of  the  troopers,  and  snatch- 
ing her  from  the  grasp  of  the  other,  who 
was  terrified  by  the  furious  assault,  placed 
her  on  the  saddle  beside  him,  and  striking 
spurs  into  his  charger  at  the  same  moment, 
leapt  the  hedge,  and  made  good  his  retreat. 

I'his  daring  action,  however,  could  not 
have  been  accomplished  without  the  as- 
sistance of  Guy  Fawkes,  who  warded  off 
with  his  rapier  all  the  blows  aimed  at  him 
and  his  lovely  charge.  While  thus  en- 
gaged, he  received  a  severe  cut  on  the 
head,  which  stretched  him  senseless  and 


narrow  lane  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  Catesby,  j  bleeding  beneat4i  his  horse's  feet. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 
THE  PACKET. 


On  recovering  from  the  effects  of  the 
wound  he  had  received  from  the  trooper, 
Guy  Fawkes  found  himself  stretched  upon 
a  small  bed  in  a  cottage,  with  Viviana  and 
Catesby  watching  beside  him.  A  thick 
fold  of  linen  was  bandaged  round  his  head, 
and  he  was  so  faint  from  the  great  effusion 
of  blood  he  had  sustained,  that,  after  gazing 
vacantly  around  him  for  a  few  minutes,  and 
but  imperfectly  comprehending  what  he 
beheld,  his  eyes  closed,  and  lie  relapsed 
into  insensibility.  Restoratives  being  ap- 
plied; he  revived  in  a  short  time,  and,  in 
answer  to  his  inquiries  as  to  how  ho  came 


thither,  was  informed  by  Catesby  that  he 
had  been  left  for  dead  by  his  assailants, 
who,  contenting  themselves  with  making 
the  old  steward  prisoner,  had  ridden  off  in 
the  direction  of  Chester. 

"  What  has  become  of  Sir  William  Rad- 
cliffe]" asked  the  wounded  man,  in  a  fee- 
ble voice. 

Catesby  raised  his  finger  to  his  lips,  and 
Fawkes  learnt  tiio  distressing  nature  of  the 
question  he  had  asked  by  the  agonizing  cry 
lliat  burst  from  Viviana.  Unable  to  con- 
trol her  grief,  she  withdrew,  and  ("atesby 
then  told  liiui  that  the  body  of  Sir  Wil- 


60 


GUY    FAWKES. 


liam  Radclifle  was  Ij'in^  in  an  adjoininfj 
cottage,  whither  it  iiad  been  transported 
from  the  scene  of  the  conflict;  adding-  that 
it  was  Miss  Radcliffe's  earnest  desire  that 
it  should  be  conveyed  to  Manchester  to  the 
family  vault  in  the  Collegiate  Church;  but 
that  he  feared  her  wish  could  not  be  safely 
complied  with.  A  messenger,  however, 
had  been  despatched  to  Holt;  and  Sir  Kver- 
ard  Digby,  and  blathers  Garnet  and  Old- 
come,  were  momentarily  expected,  when 
some  course  would  be  decided  upon  for  the 
disposal  of  the  unfortunate  knight's  re- 
mains. 

"  Poor Viviana!"  groaned Fawkes.  " She 
has  now  no  protector." 

"  Kest  easy  on  that  score,"  rejoined 
Catesby.  "  She  shall  never  want  one 
while  1  live." 

The  wounded  man  fixed  his  eyes,  now 
blazing  with  red  and  unnatural  light,  in- 
(jiiiringly  upon  him,  but  he  said  nothing. 

"  1  know  what  you  mean,"  continued 
Catesby;  "you  think  I  shall  wed  her,  and 
you  are  in  the  right.  I  shall.  The  mar- 
riage is  essential  to  our  enterprise;  and  the 
only  obstacle  to  it  is  removed." 

Fawkes  attempted  to  reply,  but  his 
parched  tongue  refused  its  office.  Cates- 
by arose,  and  carefully  raising  his  head, 
held  a  cup  of  water  to  his  lips.  The  suf- 
ferer eagerly  drained  it,  and  would  have 
asked  for  more;  but  seeing  that  the  request 
would  be  refused,  he  left  it  unuttered. 

"  Have  you  examined  my  wound]"  he 
said,  after  a  pause. 

Catesby  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

"And  do  you  judge  it  mortal]"  con- 
tinued Fawkes.  "Not  that  1  have  any 
fear  of  death.  I  have  looked  him  in  the 
face  too  often  for  that.  But  I  have  some- 
what on  my  mind  which  I  would  fain  dis- 
charge before  my  earthly  pilgrimage  is 
ended." 

"  Do  not  delay  it,  then,"  rejoined  the 
other.  "Knowing  I  speak  to  a  soldier, 
and  a  brave  one,  1  do  not  hesitate  to  tell 
you,  your  hours  are  numbered." 

"  Heaven's  will  be  done!"  exclaimed 
Fawkes,  in  a  tone  of  resignation.  "  I 
thought  myself  destined  to  be  one  of  the 
chief  instruments  of  the  restoration  of  our 
holy  religion.  IJut  I  lind  I  was  mistaken. 
When  Father  Garnet  arrives,  I  beseech 
you  let  me  see  him  instantly.  Or,  if  he 
should  not  come  speed  11)%  entreat  Miss 
Radcliffe  to  grant  me  a  few  moments  in 
private." 

"  Why  not  unburthen  yourself  to  me]" 
returned  Catesby,  distrustfully.  "  In  your 
circumstances  1  should  desire  no  better 
confessor  than  a  brother  soldier — or  other 
crucifix  than  a  sword-hilt." 

"  Nor  I,"  rejoined  Fawkes.  "  But  this 
is  no  confession  I  am  about  to  utter.  What 


I  have  to  say  relates  to  others,  not  to  my- 
self." 

"  Indeed!" exclaimed  Catesby.  "Then 
there  is  the  more  reason  why  it  should  not 
be  deferred.  I  hold  it  my  duty  to  tell  you 
that  the  fever  of  your  wound  will,  in  all 
probability,  produce  delirium.  Make  your 
communication  while  your  senses  remain 
to  you;  and  whatever  you  enjoin  shall  be 
rigorously  t'ulfilled." 

"  Will  you  swear  this]"  cried  Fawkes, 
eagerly.  But  before  an  answer  could  be 
returned,  he  added,  in  an  altered  tone, 
"  No — no — it  cannot  be." 

"This  is  no  time  for  anger,"  rejoined 
Catesby,  sternly,  "  or  I  should  ask  whether 
you  doubt  the  assurance  1  have  given  you]" 

"  I  doubt  nothing  but  j'our  compliance 
with  my  request,"  returned  Fawkes.  "And 
oh!  if  you  hope  to  be  succored  at  your 
hour  of  need,  tell  Miss  Radcliffe  I  desire 
to  speak  with  her." 

"  The  iTiessage  will  not  need  to  be  con- 
veyed," said  Viviana,  w'ho  had  noiselessly 
entered  the  room;  "  she  is  here." 

Guy  Fawkes  turned  his  gaze  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  voice;  and,  notwithstanding 
his  own  deplorable  condition,  he  was  filled 
with  concern  at  the  change  wrought  in  her 
appearance  by  the  terrible  shock  she  had 
undergone.  Her  countenance  was  as  pale 
as  death — her  eyes,  from  which  no  tears 
would  flow,  as  is  ever  the  case  with  the 
deepest  distress,  were  glassy  and  lustre- 
less— her  luxuriant  hair  hung  in  dishevel- 
led masses  over  her  shoulders — and  her 
attire  was  soiled  and  disordered. 

"  You  desire  to  speak  with  me?"  she 
continued,  advancing  towards  the  couch  of 
the  wounded  man. 

"  It  must  be  alone,"  he  replied. 

Viviana  glanced  at  Catesby,  who  reluc- 
tantly arose,  and  closed  the  door  after  him. 
"  We  are  alone  now,"  she  said. 

"  W' ater!  water!"  gasped  the  sufTerer, 
"or  I  perish."  His  request  being  com- 
plied with,  he  continued  in  a  low  solemn 
voice,  "  Miss  RadclitTe,  you  have  lost  the 
dearest  friend  you  had  on  earth,  and  you 
will  soon  lose  one  who,  if  he  had  been 
spared,  would  have  endeavored,  as  far  as 
he  could,  to  supply  that  loss.  I  say  not 
this  to  aggravate  your  distress,  but  to 
prove  the  sincerity  of  my  regard.  Let  me 
conjure  you,  with  my  dying  breath,  not  to 
wed  Mr.  Catesby." 

"Fear  it  not,"  replied  Viviana.  "I 
would  rather  endure  death  than  consent  to 
do  so." 

"  Be  upon  your  guard  against  him, 
then,"  continued  Fawkes.  "  W  hen  an 
object  is  to  be  gained,  he  suffers  few  scru- 
ples to  stand  in  his  way." 

"I  am  well  aware  of  it,"  replied  Vivi- 
ana;  "  and  on  the  arrival  of  Sir  Everard 


GUY     FAWKES. 


61 


Digby,  I  shall  place  myself  under  his  pro- 
tection." 

"  Should  you  be  driven  to  extremity," 
said  Fawkes,  taking  a  small  packet  from 
the  folds  of  his  doublet,  "break  open  this, 
it  will  inform  you  M-hat  to  do.  Only 
promise  me  )fou  will  not  have  recourse  to 
it  till  other  means  have  failed." 

Viviana  took  the  packet,  and  gave  the 
required  promise. 

"  Conceal  it  about  your  person,  and 
guard  it  carefully,"  continued  P'awkes; 
*'for  you  know  not  when  you  may  require 
it.  And  now,  having  cleared  my  con- 
science, I  can  die  easily.  Let  mc  have 
your  prayers." 

\'iviana  knelt  down  by  the  bedside,  and 
poured  forth  the  most  earnest  supplications 
in  his  behalf. 

"  Perhaps,"  she  said,  as  she  arose, 
•'and  it  is  some  consolation  to  think  so — 
you  may  be  saved  by  death  from  the  com- 
mission of  a  great  crime,  which  would  for 
ever  have  excluded  you  from  the  joys  of 
heaven." 

"Say  rather,"  cried  Guy  Fawkes,  whose 
brain  began  to  wander,  "  which  would 
have  secured  them  to  me.  Others  will 
achieve  it;  but  I  shall  have  no  share  in 
their  glory,  or  their  reward." 

"Their  reward  will  be  perdition  in  this 
world  and  the  next,"  rejoined  Viviana. 
"1  repeat,  that  though  1  deeply  deplore 
your  condition,  I  rejoice  in  your  delivery 
from  this  sin.  It  is  better — far  better — 
to  die  thus,  than  by  the  hands  of  the  com- 
mon executioner." 

"  What  do  1  see"?"  cried  Guy  Fawkes, 
trying  to  raise  himself,  and  sinking  back 
again  instantly  upon  the  pillow.  "  Eliza- 
beth Orton  rises  before  me.  She  beckons 
me  after  her — I  come! — I  come!" 

"  Heaven  pity  him!"  cried  Viviana. 
"His  senses  have  left  him!" 

"She  leads  me  into  a  gloomy  cavern," 
continued  Fawkes,  more  wildly;  "  but  my 
eyes  are  like  the  wolf's,  and  can  penetrate 
the  darkness.  It  is  filled  with  barrels  of 
gunpowder.  I  see  them  ranged  in  tiers, 
one  above  another.  Ah!  I  know  where  1 
am  now.  It  is  the  vault  beneath  the  Par- 
liament-house. The  King  and  his  nobles 
are  assembled  in  the  hall  above.  Lend 
me  a  torch,  that  I  may  fire  the  train,  and 
blow  them  into  the  air.  Quick!  quick!  1 
have  sworn  their  destruction,  and  will 
keep  my  oath.  What  matter  if  I  perish 
with  them]  Give  me  the  torch,  I  say,  or 
it  will  be  too  late.  Is  the  powder  damp 
that  it  will  not  kindlel  And  see!  the  torch 
is  expiring — it  is  gone  out!  Distraction! — 
to  be  baffled  thus!  Why  do  you  stand 
and  glare  at  me  with  those  stony  eyes'? 
Who  are  those  with  you?  Fiends! — uo! 
they  are  armed  men.    They  seize  me — 


they  drag  me  before  a  grave  assemblage. 
What  is  that  hideous  engine!  The  rack! 
— Bind  me  on  it — break  every  limb — ye 
shall  not  force  me  to  confess — ha!  ha!  I 
laugh  at  your  threats — ha!  ha!" 

"Mother  of  mercy!  release  him  from 
this  torture!"  cried  Viviana. 

"  So!  )'e  have  condemned  me,"  contin- 
ued Fawkes,  "  and  will  drag  me  to  execu- 
tion. Well,  well,  I  am  prepared.  But 
what  a  host  is  assembled  to  see  me!  Ten 
thousand  faces  are  turned  towards  me,  and 
all  with  one  abhorrent  blood-thirsty  ex- 
pression. And  what  a  scaffold!  Get  it 
done  quickly,  thou  butcherly  villain.  The 
rope  is  twisted  round  my  throat  in  serpent 
folds.     It  strangles  me — ah!" 

"  Horror!"  exclaimed  Viviana.  "I  can 
listen  to  this  no  longer.  Help,  Mr.  Cates- 
by,  help!" 

"  The  knife  is  at  my  breast — it  pierces 
my  flesh — my  heart  is  torn  forth — I  die! — 
I  die!"     And  he  uttered  a  dreadful  groan. 

"  What  has  happened!"  cried  Catesby, 
rushing  into  the  room.     "  Is  he  dead]" 

"I  fear  so,"  replied  Viviana,  "and  his 
end  has  been  a  fearful  one." 

"  No — no,"  said  Catesby; — "  his  pulse 
still  beats — but  fiercely  and  feverishly. 
You  had  better  not  remain  here  longer. 
Miss  Radcliffe.  1  will  watch  over  him. 
All  will  soon  be  over." 

Aware  that  she  could  be  of  no  further 
use,  Viviana  cast  a  look  of  the  deepest 
commiseration  at  the  sufferer,  and  retired. 
The  occupant  of  the  cottage,  an  elderly 
female,  had  surrendered  all  the  apartments 
of  her  tenement,  except  one  small  room, 
to  her  guests,  and  she  was  therefore  undis- 
turbed. The  terrible  event  which  had 
recently  occurred,  and  the  harrowing  scene 
she  had  just  witnessed,  were  too  much  for 
Viviana,  and  her  anguish  was  so  intense, 
that  she  began  to  fear  her  reason  was 
deserting  her.  She  stood  still — gazed 
fearfully  round,  as  if  some  secret  danger 
environed  her — clasped  her  hands  to  her 
temples,  and  found  them  burning  like  hot 
iron — and,  then,  alarmed  at  her  own  state, 
knelt  down,  prayed,  and  wept.  Yes!  she 
wept,  for  the  first  time,  since  her  father's 
destruction,  and  the  relief  afforded  by 
those  scalding  tears  was  inexpressible. 

From  this  piteous  state  she  was  aroused 
by  the  tramp  of  horses  at  the  door  of  the 
cottage,  and  the  next  moment  Father  Gar- 
net presented  himself. 

"  How  uncertain  are  human  affairs!" 
he  said,  after  a  sorrowful  greeting  liad 
passed  between  them.  "I  little  thought, 
when  we  parted  yesterday,  we  should 
meet  again  so  soon,  and  under  such  afilict- 
ing  circumstances." 

"It  is  the  will  of  Heaven,  fiUher,"  re- 
plied Viviana,  "  and  we  must  not  murmur 

6* 


63 


GUY    FAWKES. 


at  its  decrees,  but  bear  our  chastening  as 
■we  best  may." 

"I  am  happy  to  find  you  in  such  a 
comfortable  frame  of  mind,  dear  daughter. 
I  feared  the  effect  of  the  shock  upon  your 
feelings.  But  I  am  glad  to  find  you  bear 
u]i  against  it  so  well." 

"  1  am  surprised  at  my  own  firmness, 
father,"  replied  Viviana.  "But  I  have 
been  schooled  in  affliction.  I  have  no  tie 
left  to  bind  me  to  the  world,  and  shall  re- 
tire from  it,  not  only  without  regret,  but 
with  eagerness." 

"Say  not  so,  dear  daughter,"  replied 
C4arnet.  "  You  have,  1  trust,  much  hap- 
piness in  store  for  you.  And  when  the 
sharpness  of  your  affliction  is  worn  off", 
you  will  view  your  condition  in  a  more 
cheering  light." 

"Impossible!"  she  cried,  mournfully. 
"  Hope  is  wholly  extinct  in  my  breast. 
But  1  will  not  contest  the  point.  Is  not 
Sir  Everard  Digby  with  you]" 

"  He  is  not,  daughter,"  replied  Garnet, 
"and  I  will  explain  to  you  wherefore. 
Soon  after  your  departure  yesterday,  the 
mansion  we  occupied  at  Holt  was  attacked 
by  a  band  of  soldiers,  headed  by  Miles 
TopclilTe,  one  of  the  most  unrelenting  of 
our  persecutors;  and  though  they  were 
driven  off"  with  some  loss;  yet,  as  there 
was  every  reason  to  apprehend  they  would 
return  with  fresh  force.  Sir  Everard  judged 
it  prudent  to  retreat,  and  accordingly  he 
and  his  friends,  with  all  their  attendants, 
except  those  he  has  sent  with  me,  have 
departed  for  Buckinghamshire." 

"  Where,  then,  is  Father  Oldcorne"?" 
inquired  Viviana.     , 

"Alas',  daughter,"  rejoined  Garnet,  "I 
grieve  to  say  he  is  a  prisoner.  Imprudent- 
ly exposing  himself  during  the  attack,  he 
was  seized  and  carried  off  by  Topcliffe 
and  his  myrmidons." 

"How  true  is  the  saying,  that  misfor- 
tunes never  come  single!"  sighed  Viviana. 
"I  seem  bereft  of  all  I  hold  dear." 

"  Sir  Everard  has  sent  four  of  his  trus- 
tiest servants  with  me,"  remarked  Garnet. 
"They  are  well  armed,  and  will  attend 
you  wherever  you  choose  to  lead  them. 
He  has  also  furnished  me  with  a  sum  of 
money  for  your  use." 

"  He  is  most  kind  and  considerate," 
replied  Viviana.  "And  now,  father,"  she 
faltered,  "  there  is  one  subject  which  it  is 
necessary  to  speak  upon;  and,  though  I 
shrink  from  it,  it  must  not  be  postponed." 

"  I  guess  what  you  mean,  daughter," 
said  Garnet,  sympathisingly;  "you  allude 
to  the  interment  of  Sir  William  Radcliffe. 
"  Is  the  body  here'?" 

"It  is  in  an  adjoining  cottage,"  replied 
Viviana,  in  a  broken  voice.  "I  have  al- 
ready expressed  my  wish  to  Mr.  Catesby 


to  have  it  conveyed  to  Manchester,  to  our 
family  vault." 

"  1  see  not  how  that  can  be  accom- 
plished, dear  daughter,"  replied  Garnet; 
"  but  I  will  confer  with  Mr.  Catesby  on 
the  subject.     Where  is  he?"  . 

"  In  the  next  room,  by  the  couch  of  Guy 
Fawkes,  who  is  dying,"  said  Viviana. 

"Dying!"  echoed  Garnet,  starling.  "I 
heard  he  was  dangerously  hurt,  but  did 
not  suppose  the  wound  would  prove  fatal. 
Here  is  another  grievous  blow  to  the  good 
cause." 

At  this  moment,  the  door  was  opened 
by  Catesby. 

"How  is  the  sufferer?"  asked  Garnet. 

"  A  slight  change  for  the  better  appears 
to  have  taken  place,"  answered  Catesby. 
"His  fever  has  in  some  degree  abated, 
and  he  has  sunk  into  a  gentle  slumber." 

"  Can  he  be  removed  with  safety?"  said 
Garnet;  "for,  I  fear,  if  he  remains  here  he 
will  fall  into  the  hands  of  Topcliife  and 
his  crew,  who  are  scouring  the  country  in 
every  direction;"  and  he  recapitulated  all 
he  had  just  stated  to  Viviana. 

Catesby  was  for  some  time  lost  in  re- 
flection. 

"  I  am  fairly  perplexed  as  to  what 
course  it  will  be  best  to  pursue,"  he  said. 
"  Dangers  and  difficulties  beset  us  on 
every  side.  I  am  inclined  to  yield  to  Miss 
Radcliffe's  request,  and  proceed  to  Man- 
chester." 

"  That  will  be  rushing  into  the  very 
face  of  danger,"  observed  Garnet. 

"And,  therefore,  may  be  the  safest 
pivi,"  said  Catesby.  "Our  adversaries 
will  scarcely  suspect  us  of  so  desperate  a 
step." 

"  Perhaps  you  are  in  the  right,  my 
son,"  returned  Garnet,  after  a  moment's 
reflection.  "  At  all  events,  I  bow  to  your 
judgment." 

"  The  plan  is  too  much  in  accordance 
with  my  own  wishes  to  meet  with  any  op- 
position on  my  part,"  observed  Viviana. 

"  Will  you  accompany  us,  father?" 
said  Catesby;  "  or  do  you  proceed  to 
Gothurst?" 

"  I  will  go  with  you,  my  son.  Miss 
Radcliffe  will  need  a  protector.  And,  till 
I  have  seen  her  in  some  place  of  safety  I 
will  not  leave  her." 

"Since  we  have  come  to  this  determi- 
nation," rejoined  Catesby,  "as  soon  as 
the  needful  preparations  can  be  made,  and 
Guy  Fawkes  has  had  some  hours  repose, 
we  will  set  out.  Under  cover  of  night 
we  can  travel  with  security;  and,  by  using 
some  exertion,  may  reach  Ordsall  Hall, 
whither,  I  presume,  Miss  Radcliffe  would 
choose  to  proceed,  in  the  first  instance, 
before  daybreak." 

"1  am  well  mounted,  and  so  are  my 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


63 


attendants,"  replied  Garnet:  "and,  by  the 
provident  care  of  Sir  Everard  Digby,  each 
of  them  has  a  led  horse  with  him." 

"That  is  well,"  said  Catesby.  "And 
now,  Miss  Radcliffe,  may  I  entreat  you  to 
take  my  place  for  a  sliort  time  by  the 
couch  of  the  sufferer.  In  a  few  hours 
everything  shall  be  in  readiness." 

He  then  retired  with  Garnet,  while  Vi- 
viana  proceeded  to  the  adjoining  chamber, 
where  she  found  Guy  Fawkes  still  slum- 
bering tranquilly. 

As  the  evening  advanced,  he  awoke, 
and  expressed  himself  much  refreshed. 
While  he  was  speaking,  Garnet  and 
Catesby  approached  his  bedside,  and  he 
appeared  overjoyed  at  the  sight  of  the 
former.  The  subject  of  the  journey  being 
mentioned  to  him,  he  at  once  expressed 
his  ready  compliance  with  the  arrange- 
ment, and  only  desired  that  the  last  rites 
of  his  church  might  be  performed  for  him 
before  he  set  out. 

Garnet  informed  him  that  he  came  for 
that  very  purpose;  and  as  soon  as  they 
were  left  alone,  he  proceeded  to  the  dis- 
charge of  his   priestly  duties,  confessed 


and  absolved  him,  giving  him  the  viaticum 
and  the  extreme  unction.  And,  lastly,  he 
judged  it  expedient  to  administer  a  power- 
ful opiate,  to  lull  the  pain  of  his  wound 
on  the  journey. 

This  done,  he  summoned  Catesby,  who, 
with  two  of  the  attendants,  raised  the 
couch  on  which  the  wounded  man  was 
stretched,  and  conveyed  him  to  the  litter. 
So  well  was  this  managed,  that  Fawkes 
sustained  no  injury,  and  little  inconveni- 
ence, from  the  movement.  Two  strong 
country  vehicles  had  been  procured;  the 
one  containing  the  wounded  man's  litter, 
tlie  other  the  shell,  which  had  been  hastily 
put  together,  to  hold  the  remains  of  the 
unfortunate  Sir  William  RadclilTe.  Vivi- 
ana  being  placed  in  the  saddle,  and  Cates- 
by having  liberally  rewarded  the  cottagers 
who  had  afforded  them  shelter,  the  little 
cavalcade  was  put  in  motion.  In  this 
way,  they  journeyed  through  the  night; 
and  shaping  their  course  through  Tarpor- 
ley,  Northwich,  and  Altringham,  arrived 
at  daybreak  in  the  neighborhood  of  Ord- 
sall  Hall. 


CHAPTER    XV. 


THE  ELIXIR. 


When  Viviana  first  beheld  the  well-re- 
membered roof  and  gables  of  the  old 
mansion  peeping  from  out  the  grove  of 
trees  in  which  it  was  embosomed,  her 
heart  died  away  within  her.  The  thought 
that  her  father,  who  had  so  recently  quit- 
ted it  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  health,  and 
of  every  worldly  blessing,  should  be  so 
soon  brought  back  a  corpse,  was  almost 
too  agonising  for  endurance.  Reflecting, 
however,  that  this  was  no  season  for  the 
indulgence  of  grief,  but  that  she  was 
called  upon  to  act  with  firmness,  she  bore 
up  resolutely  against  her  emotion. 

Arrived  within  a  short  distance  of  the 
hall,  Catesby  caused  the  little  train  to 
halt  under  the  shelter  of  the  trees,  while  he 
rode  forward  to  ascertain  that  they  could 
safely  approach  it.  As  he  drew  near, 
everything  proclaimed  that  the  hand  of 
the  spoiler  had  been  there.  Crossing  the 
drawbridge,  he  entered  the  court,  which 
bore  abundant  marks  of  the  devastation 
recently  committed.  Various  articles  of 
furniture,  broken,  burnt,  or  otherwise 
destroyed,  were  lying  scattered  about. 
The  glass  in  the  windows  was  shivered; 
the  doors  forced  from  their  hinges;  the 
stone-copings  of  the  walls  pushed  off;  the 
flower-beds   trampled  upon;  the  moat  it- 


self was  in  some  places  choked  up  with 
rubbish,  while  in  others  its  surface  was 
covered  with  floating  pieces  of  timber. 

Led  by  curiosity,  Catesby  proceeded  tt> 
the  spot  where  the  stables  had  stood. 
Nothing  but  a  heap  of  blackened  riiins 
met  his  gaze.  Scarcely  one  stone  was 
standing  on -another.  The  appearance  of 
the  place  was  so  desolate  and  dishearten- 
ing, that  he  turned  away  instantly.  Leav-  • 
ing  big  horse  in  a  shed,  he  entered  the 
house.  Here,  again,  he  encountered  fresh  • 
ravages.  The  oak-panels  and  skirting- 
boards  were  torn  from  the  walls:  the 
ceilings  pulled  down;  and  the  floor  lay 
inch-deep  in  broken  plaster  and  dust.  On 
ascending  to  the  upper  rooms,  he  found 
the  same  disorder.  The  banisters  of  the 
stairs  were  broken;  the  bedsteads  destroy- 
ed; the  roof  partially  untiled.  Every 
room  was  thickly  strewn  with  leaves  torn 
from  valuable  books,  with  fragments  of 
apparel,  and  other  articles,  which  the 
searchers  not  being  able  to  carry  off  had 
wantonly  destroyed. 

Having    contemplated     this    scene    of 

havoc  for  some  time,  with  feelings  of  the 

bitterest  indignation,  Catesby  descended 

I  to  the  lower  story;  and  after  searching  in- 

j  effectually  for  the  domestics,  was  about 


64 


GUY    FAWKES. 


to  depart,  when,  turning  suddenly,  he  per- 
ceived a  man  watching  him  from  an  ad- 
joining room.  Catesby  instantly  called 
to  him;  but,  seeing  that  the  fellow  disre- 
garded his  assurances,  and  was  about  to 
take  to  his  heels,  he  drew  his  sword,  and 
threatened  him  with  severe  punishment  if 
he  attempted  to  fly.  Thus  exhorted,  the 
man — wlio  was  no  other  than  the  younger 
Heydocke — advanced  towards  him;  and 
throwing  himself  at  his  feet,  begged  him 
in  the  most  piteous  terms  to  do  him  no 
injury. 

"  I  have  already  told  you  I  am  a  friend," 
replied  Catesby,  sheathing  his  sword. 

*' Ah!  Mr.  Catesby,  is  it  you  I  behokH" 
cried  IMartin  Heydocke,  whose  fears  had 
hitherto  prevented  him  from  noticing  the 
features  of  the  intruder.  "  What  brings 
your  worship  to  this  ill-fated  house]" 

"  First  let  me  know  if  there  is  any  ene- 
my abouti"  replied  Catesby. 

"  None  that  I  am  aware  of,"  rejoined 
Martin.  "  Having  ransacked  the  pre- 
mises, and  done  all  the  mischief  they 
could,  as  3'^ou  perceive,  the  miscreants  de- 
parted the  day  before  yesterday,  and  I 
have  seen  nothing  of  them  since,  though 
1  have  been  constantly  on  the  watch.  The 
onl}'^  alarm  I  have  had  was  that  occasioned 
by  your  worship  just  now." 

"  Are  you  alone  here]"  demanded 
Catesby. 

"  No,  your  worship,"  answered  Martin. 
"  There  are  several  of  the  servants  con- 
cealed in  a  secret  passage  under  the  house. 
But  they  are  so  terrified  by  wliat  has  lately 
happened,  that  they  never  dare  show  them- 
selves, except  during  the  night  time." 

"  I  do  not  wonder  at  it,"  replied  Cates- 

by- 

"  And  now  may  I  inquire  whether  3'our 
worship  brings  any  tidings  of  Sir  Willinm 
Radcliffe,  and  Mistress  Viviana]"  rejoined 
Martin.  "  I  hope  no  ill  has  befallen  them. 
My  father  old  .lerome  Heydocke,  set  out 
to  Holywell,  a  few  days  ago,  to  apprise 
them  of  their  danger,  and  I  have  not  heard 
of  them  since." 

"  Sir  William  Radcliffe  is  dead,"  re- 
plied Catesby.  "The  villains  have  mur- 
dered him.     Your  father  is  a  prisoner." 

"Alas!  alas!"  cried  the  young  man, 
bursting  into  tears,  "  these  are  fearful 
times  to  live  in.  What  will  become  of  us 
all?" 

"We  must  rise  against  the  oppressor," 
replied  Catesby,  sternly.  "  Bile  the  heel 
that  tramples  upon  us." 

"  W'e  must,"  rejoined  Martin.  "And, 
if  my  poor  arm  could  avail,  it  should  not 
be  slow  to  strike." 

"  Manfully  resolved!"  cried  Catesby, 
who  never  lost  an  opportunity  of  gaining 
a  proselyte.     "  I  will  point  out  to  you  a 


way  by  which  you  may  accomplish  what 
you  desire.  But  we  will  talk  of  ibis  here- 
after. Hoard  up  your  vengeance  till  the 
fitting  moment  for  action  arrives. 

He  then  proceeded  to  explain  to  the 
young  man,  who  was  greatly  surprised  by 
the  intelligence,  that  Miss  Radcliffe  was 
at  hand,  and  that  the  body  of  Sir  William 
had  been  brought  thither  for  interment  in 
the  famil}'  vault  at  the  Collegiate  Church, 
Having  ascertained  that  there  was  a  cham- 
ber, which,  having  suffered  less  than  the 
others,  might  serve  for  Viviana's  accom- 
modation, Catesby  returned  to  the  party. 

Perhaps  a  more  melancholy  cavalcade 
was  never  seen  than  now  approached  the 
gates  of  Orsdall  Hall.  First  rode  Viviana, 
in  an  agony  of  tears,  for  her  grief  had  by 
this  time  become  absolutely  uncontrolla- 
ble, with  Catesby  on  foot,  leading  her 
horse.  Next  came  Garnet,  greatly  ex- 
hausted, and  depressed;  his  eyes  cast  de- 
jectedly on  the  ground.  Then  came  the 
litter,  containing  Guy  Fawkes;  and,  lastly, 
the  vehicle  wilh  the  body  of  Sir  William 
Radcliffe.  On  arriving  at  the  gate,  Vivi- 
ana was  met  by  two  female  servants, 
whom  Martin  Heydocke  had  summoned 
from  their  hiding-places;  and,  as  soon  as 
slie  had  dismounted,  she  was  supported, 
for  she  was  scarcely  able  to  walk  unaided, 
to  the  chamber  destined  for  her  reception. 
This  done,  Catesby  proceeded,  with  some 
anxiety,  to  superintend  the  removal  of 
Fawkes,  who  was  perfectly  insensible. — 
His  wound  had  bled  considerably  during 
the  journey;  hut  the  effusion  had  stopped, 
when  the  faintness  supervened.  He  was 
placed  in  one  of  the  lower  rooms  till  a 
sleeping-chamber  could  be  prepared  for 
him.  The  last  task  was  to  attend  to  the 
remains  of  the  late  unfortunate  possessor 
of  the  mansion.  By  Catesby's  directions 
a  large  oak  table,  which  had  once  stood  in 
the  midst  of  the  great  hall,  was  removed  to 
the  Star  Chamber,  already  described  as 
the  principal  room  of  the  house;  and, 
being  securely  propped  up — for,  like  the 
rest  of  the  furniture,  it  had  been  much 
damaged  by  tiie  spoilers,  though,  being  of 
substantial  material,  it  offered  greater  re- 
sistance to  their  efforts — the  shell  contain- 
ing the  body  was  placed  upon  it. 

"  Better  he  lies  thus,"  exclaimed  Cates- 
by, when  the  melancholy  office  was  com- 
pleted, "than  live  to  witness  the  wreck 
around  him.  Fatal  as  are  these  occurren- 
ces," he  added,  pursuing  the  train  of 
thought  suggested  by  the  scene,  •'  they  are 
yet  favorable  to  my  purpose.  The  only 
person  who  could  have  prevented  my  union 
with  Viviana  Radcliffe — her  father — lies 
there.  Who  would  have  thought  when 
she  rejected  my  proposal  a  few  days  ago, 
in  this  very  room,  how  fortune  would  con- 


GUY    FAWKES. 


65 


spire— and  by  what  dark  and  inscrutable 
means — to  bring  it  about!  Fallen  as  it  is, 
this  house  is  not  yet  fallen  so  low  but  I 
can  reinstate  it.  Its  young  mistress  mine, 
her  estates  mine — for  she  is  now  tbe  in- 
heritress of  all  her  father's  possessions — 
the  utmost  reach  of  my  ambition  were 
gained,  and  all  but  one  object  of  my  life — 
for  which  I  have  dared  so  much,  and 
struggled  so  long — achieved!" 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of,  my  son!" 
asked  Garnet,  who  had  watched  the 
changing  expression  of  his  sombre  coun- 
tenance— ''what  are  you  thinking  of]"  he 
said,  tapping  him  on  tbe  shoulder. 

"  Of  that  which  is  never  absent  from  my 
thoughts,  father — the  great  design,"  re- 
plied Catesby;  "  and  of  the  means  of  its 
accomplishment,  which  this  sad  scene 
suggests." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  my  son," 
rejoined  the  other. 

"Does  not  the  blood  which  has  there 
been  shed  cry  aloud  for  vengeance]"  said 
Catesby;  and  think  you  that  slaughtered 
man's  child  will  be  deaf  to  the  cry]  No, 
father,  she  will  no  longer  tamely  submit 
to  wrongs  that  would  steel  the  gentlest 
bosom,  and  make  firm  the  feeblest  arm, 
but  will  go  hand  and  heart  with  us  in  our 
project.  Viviana  must  be  mine,"  he  ad- 
ded, altering  his  tone,  "ours,  I  should 
say — for,  if  she  is  mine,  all  the  vast  pos- 
sessions which  have  accrued  to  her  by  her 
father's  death  shall  be  devoted  to  the  fur- 
therance of  the  mighty  enterprise." 

"  I  cannot  think  she  will  refuse  you 
now,  my  son,"  said  Garnet. 

"  She  shall  not  refuse  me,  father,"  re- 
joined Catesby.  "The  time  is  gone  by 
for  idle  wooing." 

"  I  will  be  no  party  to  forcible  measures, 
my  son,"  said  Garnet,  gravely.  "As  far  as 
persuasion  goes,  I  will  lend  you  every  as- 
sistance in  my  power,  but  nothing  furtlier." 
"Persuasion  is  all  that  will  be  required, 
I  am  assured,  father,"  said  Catesby  has- 
tily, perceiving  he  had  committed  himself 
too  far.  "But  let  us  now  see  what  can 
be  done  for  Guy  Fawkes." 

"Would  that  there  were  any  hopes  of 
his  life!"  exclaimed  Garnet,  sighing  deep- 
ly. "In  losing  him,  we  lose  the  bravest 
of  our  band." 

"We  do,"  returned  Catesby.  "And 
yet  he  has  been  subject  to  strange  fancies 
of  late." 

"He  has  been  appalled,  but  never 
shaken,"  said  Garnet.  "Of  all  our  num- 
ber, the  only  two  upon  whom  I  could  rely 
were  yourself  and  Fawkes.  When  he  is 
gone,  you  will  stand  alone." 

"There  is  no  danger  he  would  have 
undertaken  that  I  will  not  as  readily  en- 
counter, father,"  replied  Catesby. 


"I  doubt  it  not,  my  son.  Let  us  go  to 
him.  And  be  not  downcast.  He  has  an 
iron  frame.  While  life  lasts  there  is  ever 
hope." 

Catesby  shook  his  head  doubtfully,  and 
led  the  way  in  silence  to  the  chamber 
where  the  wounded  man  lay.  He  had 
regained  his  consciousness,  but  was  too 
feeble  to  speak.'  After  such  restoratives 
as  were  at  hand  had  been  administered, 
Catesby  was  about  to  order  a  room  to  be 
fitted  up  for  him,  when  Viviana,  whose 
anxiety  for  the  sufferer  bad  overcome  her 
affliction,  made  her  appearance. 

On  learning  Catesby's  intentions,  she 
insisted  upon  Fawkes  being  removed  to 
the  room  allotted  to  her,  which  had  not 
been  dismantled  like  the  rest.  Seeing  it 
was  in  vain  to  oppose  her,  Catesby  as- 
sented, and  the  sufferer  was  accordingly 
carried  tliither,  and  placed  within  the  bed 
— a  large  antique  piece  of  furniture,  hung 
with  faded  damask  curtains.  'l"he  room 
was  one  of  the  oldest  in  the  house,  and  at 
the  further  end  stood  a  small  closet,  ap- 
proached by  an  arched  doorway,  and  fitted 
up  with  a  cushion  and  crucifix,  which, 
strange  to  say,  had  escaped  the  vi<rilance 
of  the  searchers.  Placed  within  the 
couch,  Guy  Fawkes  began  to  ramble  as 
before  about  the  conspiracy,  and  fearing 
his  ravings  might  awaken  the  suspicion 
of  the  servant^,  Catesby  would  not  suiTer 
any  of  them  to  come  near  him,  but  ar- 
ranged with  Garnet  to  keep  watch  over 
hinT  by  turns.  By  degrees,  be  became 
more  composed;  and  after  dozing  a  little, 
opened  his  eyes,  and,  looking  round,  in- 
quired anxiously  for  his  sword.  At  first 
Catesby,  who  was  alone  with  him  at  the 
time,  hesitated  in  his  answer,  but  seeing 
he  appeared  greatly  disturbed,  he  showed 
him  that  his  hat,  gauntlets,  and  rapier 
were  lying  by  the  bedside. 

"I  am  content,"  replied  the  wounded 
man,  smiling  faintly;  "that  sword  has 
never  left  my  side,  waking  or  sleeping, 
for  thirty  years.  Let  me  grasp  it  once 
more— perhaps  for  the  last  time." 

Catesby  handed  him  the  weapon.  He 
looked  at  it  for  a  few  moments,  and 
pressed  the  blade  to  his  lips. 

"  Farewell,  old  friend!"  he  said,  a  tear 
gathering  in  his  eye,  "  farewell!  Cates- 
by," he  added,  as  be  resigned  the  weapon 
to  him,  "  1  have  one  request  to  make.  Let 
that  sword  be  buried  with  me." 

"It  shall,"  replied  Catesby,  in  a  voice 
suffocated  by  emotion,  for  the  request 
touched  him  where  his  stern  nature  was 
most  accessible:  "I  will  place  it  by  you 
myself." 

"Thanks!"  exclaimed  Fawkes;  and 
soon  after  this,  he  again  fell  into  a  slumber. 

His  sleep  endured  for  some  hours;  but 


66 


GUY    FAWKES. 


his  breatliin^  grew  fainter  and  fainter,  so 
that  at  the  last  it  was  scarcely  perceptible. 
A  strikint^  chanore  had  likewise  taken 
place  in  his  countenance,  and  these  signs 
convinced  Catesby  he  had  not  long  to 
live.  ^Vllile  he  was  watching  him  with 
great  anxiety,  Viviana  appeared  at  the 
door  of  the  chamber,  and  beckoned  him 
out.  Noiselessly  obeying  the  summons, 
and  following  her  along  the  gallery,  he 
entered  a  room  in  wiiich  he  found  Garnet. 

"  I  have  called  you  to  say  that  a  remedy 
has  been  suggested  to  me  by  Martin  Hey- 
docke,"  observed  Viviana,  "  by  which  I 
trust  Guy  Fawkes  may  yet  be  saved." 

"How]"  asked  Catesby,  eagerly. 

"  Doctor  Dee,  the  warden  of  IManches- 
chester,  of  whom  you  mast  have  heard," 
she  continued,  "is  said  to  possess  an 
elixir  of  such  virtue,  tiiata  few  drops  of  it 
will  snatch  him  who  drinks  them  from  the 
very  jaws  of  death." 

"  1  should  not  have  suspected  you  of  so 
much  credulity,  Miss  RadclilTe,"  replied 
Catesby: — "but  grant  that  Doctor  Dee 
possesses  this  marvellous  elixir — which 
for  my  own  part  I  doubt — how  are  we  to 
obtain  it!" 

^'^[f  you  will  repair  to  the  college,  and 
see  him,  I  doubt  not  he  will  give  it  you," 
said  V'iviana. 

Catesby  smiled  incredulously. 

"  I  have  a  claim  upon  Doctor  Dee,"  she 
persisted,  "  which  I  have  never  enforced. 
I  will  now  use  it.  Show  him  this  token," 
she  continued,  detaching  a  small  ornament 
from  her  neck;  "tell  him  you  bring  it 
from  me,  and  I  doubt  not  he  will  comply 
with  j'our  request." 

"  Your  commands  shall  be  obeyed. 
Miss  RadclilTe,"  replied  Catesby;  "but  I 
frankly  confess  I  have  no  faith  in  the 
remedy." 

"  It  is  at  least  worth  the  trial,  my  son," 
observed  Garnet.  "  Doctor  Dee  is  a  won- 
derful person,  and  has  made  many  disco- 
veries in  medicine,  as  in  other  sciences, 
and  this  marvellous  specific  may,  for 
aught  we  know,  turn  out  no  imposture." 

"If  such  is  your  opinion,"  replied 
Catesby,  "  I  will  set  out  at  once.  If  it  is 
to  be  tried  at  all,  it  must  be  without  dela)\ 
The  poor  sufferer  is  sinking  fast." 

"  Go  then,"  cried  Viviana,  "  and  heaven 
speed  your  mission!  If  you  could  prevail 
upon  Doctor  Dee  to  visit  the  wounded 
man  in  person,  I  should  prefer  it.  Be- 
sides, I  have  another  request  to  make  of 
him— but  that  will  do  hereafter.  Lose  not 
a  moment  now." 

"I  will  fly  on  the  wings  of  the  wind," 
replied  Catesby.  "Heaven  grant  that 
when  I  return  the  object  of  our  solicitude 
may  not  be  past  all  human  aid!" 

AVith  this,  he  hurried  to  an  out-building 


in  which  the  horses  were  placed,  and 
choosing  the  strongest  and  fleetest  from 
out  their  number,  mounted,  and  started  at 
full  gallop  in  the  direction  of  INIanchester; 
nor  did  lie  relax  his  speed  until  he  reached 
the  sfates  of  the  ancient  College.  Hang- 
ing the  bridle  of  his  smoking  steed  to  a 
hook  in  the  wall,  he  crossed  the  large 
quadrangular  court;  and  finding  the  princi- 
pal entrance  open,  passed  the  lofty  room 
now  used  as  the  refectory,  ascended  the 
flight  of  stone  stairs  that  conducts  the 
modern  visiter  to  the  library,  and  was  tra- 
versing the  long  galleries  communicating 
with  it,  and  now  crowded  with  tiie  learn- 
ing of  ages,  when  he  encountered  a  grave 
but  crafty-looking  personage,  in  a  loose 
brown  robe,  and  Polish  cap,  who  angrily 
demanded  his  business. 

Apologising  for  the  intrusion,  Catesby 
was  about  to  explain,  when  a  small  oak 
door  near  tliem  was  partly  opened,  and  an 
authoritative  voice,  from  within,  exclaimed, 
"  Do  not  hinder  him,  Kelley.  I  know  his 
business,  and  will  see  him." 

The  seer  made  no  further  remark,  but 
pointing  to  the  door,  Catesby  at  once  com- 
prehended that  it  was  Dee's  voice  he  had 
heard;  and,  though  somewhat  startled  by 
the  intimation  that  he  was  expected,  en- 
tered the  room.  He  found  the  Doctor  sur- 
rounded by  his  magical  apparatus,  and 
slowly  returning  to  the  chair  Jie  had  just 
quitted. 

Without  looking  behind  him  to  see 
whom  he  addressed,  Dee  continued,  "  I 
have  just  consulted  my  show-stone,  and 
know  why  you  are  come  hither.  You 
bring  a  token  from  Miss  Radcliffe." 

"I  do,"  replied  Catesby,  in  increased 
astonishment.     "  It  is  here." 

"  It  is  needless  to  produce  it,"  replied 
Dee,  still  keeping  his  back  towards  him. 
"I  have  seen  it  already.  Kelley,"  he 
continued,  "  I  am  about  to  set  out  for  Ord- 
sall  Hall  immediately.  You  must  accom- 
pany me." 

"Amazement!"  cried  Catesby.  "Is 
the  purpose  of  my  visit  then  really  known 
to  your  reverenced' 

"You  shall  hear,"  rejoined  Dee,  facing 
him.  "  You  have  a  friend  who  is  at  the 
point  of  death,  and  having  heard  that  I 
possess  an  elixir  of  wonderful  efficacy,  are 
come  in  quest  of  it." 

"True,"  replied  Catesby,  utterly  con- 
founded. 

"The  name  of  that  friend,"  pursued 
Dee,  regarding  him  fixedly,  "is  Guy 
Fawkes — your  own,  Robert  Catesby." 

"  I  need  no  more  to  convince  mc,  reve- 
rend sir,"  rejoined  Catesby,  trembling,  in 
spile  of  himself,  "that  all  I  have  heard  of 
your  wonderful  powers  falls  far  short  of 
the  truth." 


GUY    FAWKES. 


67 


"You  nre  but  just  in  time,"  replied 
Dee,  bowing-  gravely,  in  acknowledgment 
of  the  compliment.  "Anotiier  hour,  and 
it  would  have  been  too  late." 

"Then  you  think  he  will  live!"  cried 
Catesby,  eagerly. 

"  I  am  sure  of  it,"  replied  Dee,  "  pro- 
vided—" 

"Provided  whaf" interrupted  Catesby. 
"Is  there  aught  I  can  do  to  insure  his 
recovery]" 

"No,"  replied  Dee,  sternly.  "I  am 
debating  within  myself  wlielher  it  is 
worth  while  reviving  him  for  a  more 
dreadful  fate." 

"  What  mean  you,  reverend  sir?"  asked 
Catesb}'^,  a  shade  passing  over  his  counte- 
nance. 

"You  understand  my  meaning,  and 
therefore  need  no  explanation,"  replied 
Dee.  "Return  to  Ordsall  Hall,  and  tell 
Miss  Radcliffe  I  will  be  there  in  an  hour. 
Bid  her  have  no  further  fear.  If  the 
wounded  man  breathes  when  I  arrive,  I 
■will  undertake  to  cure  him.  Add  further, 
that  I  know  the  other  request  she  desires 
to  make  of  me,  and  that  it  is  granted  be- 
fore it  is  asked.  Farewell,  sir,  for  a  short 
time." 

On  reaching  the  court,  Catesby  expand- 
ed his  chest,  shook  his  limbs,  and  ex- 
claimed, "  At  length,  I  breathe  freely. 
The  atmosphere  of  that  infernal  chamber 
smelt  so  horribly  of  sulphur  that  it  almost 
stifled  me.  Well,  if  Doctor  Dee  has  not 
dealings  with  the  devil,  man  never  had! 
However,  if  he  cures  Guy  Fawkes,  I  care 
not  whence  the  medicine  comes  from." 

As  he  descended  Smithy  Bank,  and 
■was  about  to  cross  the  old  bridge  over  the 
Irwell,  he  perceived  a  man  riding  before 
him,  who  seemed  anxious  to  avoid  him. 
Struck  by  this  person's  manner,  he  urged 
his  horse  into  a  quicker  pace,  and  being 
the  better  mounted  of  the  two,  soon  over- 
took him,  when  to  his  surprise  he  found 
it  was  Martin  Ileydocke. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here,  sirrah?"  he 
demanded. 

"I  have  been  sent  by  Mistress  Viviana 
with  a  message  to  Master  Humphrey 
Chetham,"  replied  the  young  man,  in 
great  confusion. 

"Indeed!"  exclaimed  Catesby,  angrily. 
"And  how  dared  you  convey  a  message 
to  him,  without  consulting  mo  on  the  sub- 
ject?" 

"  I  was  not  aware  you  were  my  mas- 
ter," replied  Martin,  sulkily.  "  If  I  owe 
obedience  to  any  one,  it  is  to  Master 
Chetham,  whose  servant  I  am.  But  if 
Mistress  Viviana  gives  me  a  message  to 
deliver,  I  will  execute  her  commands, 
whoever  may  be  pleased  or  displeased." 

"  I  did  but  jest,  thou  saucy  knave,"  re- 


turned Catesby,  who  did  not  desire  to 
offend  him.  "Here  is  a  piece  of  money 
for  thee.  Now,  if  it  be  no  secret,  what 
was  Miss  Radcliffe's  message  to  thv  mas- 
ter!" 

"I  know  not  what  her  letter  con- 
tained," replied  Martin;  "but  his  answer 
was,  that  he  would  come  to  the  hall  at 
nightfall." 

"It  is  well  I  ascertained  this,"  thought 
Catesby,  and  he  added  aloud,  "  I  under- 
stood your  master  had  been  arrested  and 
imprisoned." 

"  So  he  was,"  replied  Martin;  "  but  he 
had  interest  enough  with  the  Commis- 
sioners to  procure  his  liberation." 

"  Enough,"  replied  Catesby,  and  strik- 
ing spurs  into  his  charger,  he  dashed  oflF. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour's  hard  ridino- 
brought  him  to  the  hall,  and,  on  arrivino- 
there,  he  proceeded  at  once  to  the  wounded 
man's  chamber,  where  he  found  Viviana 
and  Garnet. 

"  Have  you  succeeded  in  your  errand?" 
cried  the  former,  eagerly.  "  Will  Doctor 
Dee  come,  or  has  he  sent  the  elixir!" 

"  He  will  bring  it  himself,"  replied 
Catesby. 

Viviana  uttered  an  exclamation  of  joy, 
and  the  sound  appeared  to  reach  the  ears 
of  the  sufferer,  for  he  stirred  and  groaned 
faintly. 

"  Doctor  Dee  desired  me  to  tell  you. 
Miss  Radcliffe,"  said  Catesby,  drawing 
her  aside,  and  speaking  in  a  low  tone, 
"  that  your  other  request  was  granted." 

_  Viviana  looked  surprised,  and  as  if  she 
did  not  clearly  understand  him. 

"Might  he  not  refer  to  Master  Hum- 
phrey Chetham?"  continued  Catesby, 
somewhat  maliciously. 

"Ah!  you  have  learnt  from  IMartin  Hey- 
docke  that  I  have  written  to  him,"  returned 
Viviana,  blushing  deeply.  "  What  I  was 
about  to  ask  of  Doctor  Dee  had  no  refer- 
ence to  Master  Chetham.  It  was  to  re- 
quest permission  to  privately  inter  my 
father's  remains  in  our  family  vault  in  the 
Collegiate  Church.  But,  how  did  he 
know  1  had  any  request  to  make?" 

"  That  passes  my  comprehension,"  re- 
plied Catesby,  "  unless  he  obtained  his 
information  from  his  familiar  spirits." 

Shortly  after  this,  Doctor  Dee  and  Kel- 
ley  arrived  at  the  hall.  Catesby  met  them 
at  the  gate,  and  conducted  them  to  the 
wounded  man's  chamber.  Coldly  saluting 
Garnet,  whom  lie  eyed  with  suspicion,  and 
bowing  respectfully  to  Viviana,  the  Doctor 
slowly  advanced  to  the  bedside.  He  gazed 
for  a  short  time  at  the  wounded  man,  and 
folded  his  arms  thoughtfully  upon  his 
breast.  The  eyes  of  the  sulTercr  were 
closed,  and  his  lips  slightly  apart,  but  no 
breath  seemed  to  issue  from  them.     Ilis 


68 


GUY    F  A  W  K  E  S. 


bronzed  complexion  had  assumed  the 
ghastly  hue  of  death,  and  his  strongly- 
marked  features  had  hecome  fixed  and 
rigid.  His  black  hair,  stiffened  and  caked 
with  blood,  escaped  from  the  bandages 
around  his  head,  and  hung  in  elf-locks  on 
the  pillow.  It  was  a  piteous  spectacle. 
And  Doctor  Dee  appeared  much  moved 
by  it. 

"The  worst  is  over,"  he  muttered: 
"  why  recall  the  spirit  to  its  wretched 
tenement'?" 

"  If  you  can  save  hiin,  reverend  sir,  do 
not  hesitate;"  implored  Viviana. 

"I  am  come  hither  for  that  purpose," 
replied  Dee;  "but  I  must  liave  no  other 
witness  to  the  experiment  except  yourself, 
and  my  attendant  Kelley." 

"  I  do  not  desire  to  be  present,  reverend 
sir,"  replied  Viviana;  "  but  I  will  retire 
into  that  closet,  and  pray  that  your  remedy 
may  prevail." 

"  ]\Iy  prayers  for  the  same  end  shall  be  I 
offered  in  the  adjoining  room,"  observed 
Garnet.     And  taking  Catesby's  arm,  who 
seemed  spell-bound  by  curiosity,  he  drag- 
ged him  away. 

The  door  closed,  and  Viviana  with-  , 
drawn  into  the  closet,  where  she  knelt  j 
down  before  the  crucifix.  Doctor  Dee  seat- 
ed himself  on  the  bedside;  and  taking  a 
gourd-shaped  bottle,  filled  with  a  clear 
sparkling  liquid,  from  beneath  his  robe,  he 
raised  it  to  his  eyes  with  his  left  hand, 
while  he  placed  his  right  on  the  wrist  of 
the  wounded  man.  In  this  attitude  he 
continued  for  a  few  seconds,  while  Kelley, 
with  his  arms  folded,  likewise  kept  his 
gaze  fixed  on  the  phial.  At  the  expiration 
of  that  time.  Dee,  who  had  apparently 
counted  the  pulsations  of  the  sufferer,  took 
out  the  glass  stopper  from  the  bottle,  the 
contents  of  which  diffused  a  pungent  odour 
around;  and  welting  a  small  piece  of  linen 
with  it,  applied  it  to  his  temples.  He 
then  desired  Kelley  to  raise  his  head,  and 
poured  a  few  drops  down  his  throat.   This 


done,  he  waited  a  few  minutes,  and  re- 
peated the  application. 

"Look!"  he  cried  to  Kelley.  "The 
elixir  already  begins  to  operate.  His 
chest  heaves.  His  limbs  shiver.  That 
flush  upon  the  cheek,  and  that  dampness 
on  the  brow,  denote  that  the  animal  heat 
is  restored.  A  third  dose  will  accomplish 
the  cure." 

"  I  can  already  feel  his  heart  palpitate," 
observed  Kelley,  placing  his  hand  on  the 
patient's  breast. 

"  Heaven  be  praised!"  ejaculated  Vivi- 
ana, who  had  suspended  her  devotions  to 
listen. 

"  Hold  him  tightly,"  cried  Dee  to  his 
assistant,  "  while  I  administer  the  third 
dose.  He  may  injure  himself  by  his 
struggles." 

Kelley  obeyed,  and  twined  his  arms 
tightly  round  the  wounded  man.  And, 
fortunate  it  was  that  the  precaution  was 
taken;  for,  no  sooner  was  the  elixir  poured 
down  his  throat  than  his  chest  began  to 
labor  violently,  his  eyes  opened;  and, 
raising  himself  bolt-upright,  he  struggled 
violently  to  break  from  the  hold  imposed 
upon  him.  This  he  would  have  effected, 
if  Dee  had  not  likewise  lent  his  aid  to  pre- 
vent him. 

"Tliis  is,  indeed,  a  wonderful  sight!" 
cried  Miss  Radcliffe,  who  had  quitted  the 
closet,  and  now  gazed  on,  in  awe  and  as- 
tonishment. "I  can  never  be  sufficiently 
thankful  to  you,  reverend  sir." 

"  Give  thanks  to  Him  to  whom  alone, 
they  are  due,"  replied  Dee.  "Summon 
your  friends.  They  may  now  resume  their 
posts.     My  task  is  accomplished." 

Catesby  and  Garnet  being  called  into 
the  room,  could  scarcely  credit  their  senses 
when  they  beheld  Guy  Fawkes,  who  by 
this  time  had  ceased  struggling,  reclining 
on  Keiley's  shoulder,  and,  except  a  cer- 
tain wildness  in  the  eye,  and  cadaverous- 
ness  of  hue,  looking  as  he  was  wont  to  do. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 
THE  COLLEGIATE  CHURCH  AT  MANCHESTER. 


Bidding  Kelley  remain  with  Guy 
Fawkes,  Doctor  Dee  signified  to  Viviana 
that  he  had  a  few  words  to  say  to  her  in 
private  before  his  departure,  and  leading 
the  way  to  an  adjoining  room,  informed 
her  that  he  was  aware  of  her  desire  to  have 
her  father's  remains  interred  in  the  Col- 
legiate Church,  and  that,  so  far  from  op- 
posing her  inclinations,  he  would  willingly 
accede  to  them,  only  recommending  as  a 


measure  of  prudence  that  the  ceremonial 
should  be  performed  at  night,  and  with  as 
much  secrecy  as  possible.  Viviana  thank- 
ed him  in  a  voice  of  much  emotion  for  his 
kindness,  and  entirely  acquiesced  in  his 
suggestion  of  caution.  At  the  same  time, 
she  could  not  help  expressing  her  surprise 
that  her  thoughts  should  be  known  to  him: 
— "Though,  indeed,"  she  added,  "after 
the  wonderful  exhibition  I  have  just  wit- 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


nessed  of  your  power,  I  can  scarcely  con- 
ceive that  any  limits  ought  to  be  placed  to 
it." 

"  Few  things  are  hidden  from  me,"  re- 
plied Dee,  with  a  gratified  smile; — "even 
the  lighter  matters  of  the  heart,  in  which  I 
might  be  supposed  to  take  little  interest, 
do  not  altogether  elude  my  observation. 
In  reference  to  this,  you  will  not,  I  am 
sure,  be  offended  with  me,  Miss  Radclifl'e, 
if  I  tell  you  1  liave  noticed  witli  some  con- 
cern the  attachment  that  has  arisen  be- 
tween you  and  Humphrey  Chetham." 

Viviana  uttered  an  exclamation  of  sur- 
prise, and  a  deep  blush  sufl'used  her  pallid 
cheeks. 

"  I  am  assuming  the  privilege  of  an  old 
man  with  you,  Viviana,"  continued  Dee, 
in  a  graver  tone,  "  and  I  may  add  of  an 
old  friend — for  your  lamented  mother  was 
one  of  my  dearest  and  best  friends,  as  you 
perchance  called  to  mind,  when  you  sent 
me  tc-day,  by  Mr.  Catesby,  the  token  I 
gave  her  years  ago.  You  have  done  un- 
wisely in  inviting  Humphrey  Chetham  to 
come  hither  to-night." 

"  How  so?"  she  faltered. 

"  Because,  if  he  keeps  his  appointment, 
fatal  consequences  may  ensue,"  answered 
Dee.  "  Your  message  has  reached  the 
ears  of  one  from  whom — most  of  all — you 
should  have  concealed  it." 

"  Mr.  Catesby  has  heard  of  it,  I  know," 
replied  Viviana.  "  But  you  do  not  appre- 
hend any  danger  from  himl" 

"  He  is  Chetham's  mortal  foe,"  rejoined 
Dee,  "  and  will  slay  him,  if  he  find  an  op- 
portunity." 

"  You  alarm  me,"  she  cried.  "  I  will 
speak  to  Mr.  Catesby  on  the  subject,  and 
entreat  him,  as  he  values  my  regard,  to 
offer  no  molestation  to  his  fancied  rival." 

"/'a/jc/e^^  rival!"  echoed  Dee,  raising  his 
brows,  contemptuously.  "  Do  you  seek 
to  persuade  me  that  yon  do  not  love  Hum- 
phrey Chethanj]" 

"Assuredly  not,"  replied  Viviana.  "I 
freely  acknowledge  my  attachment  to  him. 
It  is  as  strong  as  my  aversion  to  Mr. 
Catesby.  Bat  the  latter  is  aware  that  the 
suit  of  liis  rival  is  as  hopeless  as  his  own." 

"Explain  yourself,  1  pray  you]"  said 
Dec. 

"  My  destiny  is  the  cloister — and  this 
he  well  knows,"  she  rejoined.  "  As  soon 
as  my  worldly  affairs  can  be  arranged,  I 
shall  retire  to  the  Englisli  nunnery  at 
Brussels,  where  I  shall  vow  myself  to 
heaven." 

"  Such  is  your  present  intention,"  re- 
plied Dee.  "  But  you  will  never  quit 
your  own  country." 

"  What  shall  hinder  me]"  asked  Vivi- 
ana, uneasily. 

"Many   things,"  returned  Dee.      "A- 


mongst  others,   this   meeting  with  your 
lover." 

"  Call  him  not  by  that  name,  I  beseech 
you,  reverend  sir,"  she  rejoined.  "  Hum- 
phrey Chetham  will  never  be  other  to  me 
than  a  friend." 

"  It  may  be,"  said  Dee.  "  But  your 
destiny  is  nut  the  cloister." 

"For  what  am  I  reserved,  then]"  de- 
manded Viviana,  trembling. 

"All  I  dare  tell  you,"  he  returned,  all 
it  is  needful  for  you  to  know,  is,  that  your 
future  career  is  mixed  up  with  that  of  Guy 
Fawkes.  But  do  not  concern  yourself 
about  what  is  to  come.  The  present  is 
sufficient  to  claim  your  attention." 

"True,"  replied  Viviana;  "and  my  first 
object  shall  be  to  despatch  a  messenger  to 
Humphrey  Chetham  to  prevent  him  from 
coming  hither." 

"Trouble  yourself  no  further  on  that 
score,"  returned  Dee.  "  I  will  convey  the 
message  to  him.  As  regards  the  funeral, 
it  must  take  place  without  delay.  I  will 
be  at  the  south  porch  of  the  church  with 
the  keys  at  midnight,  and  Robert  Bur- 
nell,  the  sexton,  and  another  assistant  on 
whom  I  can  depend,  shall  be  in  atten- 
dance. Though  it  is  contrary  to  my  re- 
ligious opinions  and  feelings  to  allow  a 
Romish  priest  to  perform  the  service,  1 
will  not  interfere  with  Father  Garnet.  I 
owe  your  mother  a  deep  debt  of  gratitude, 
and  will  pay  it  to  her  husband  and  her 
child." 

"  Thanks! — in  her  name,  thanks!"  cried 
Viviana,  in  a  voice  suffocated  by  emotion. 

"And  now,"  continued  Dee,  "  I  would 
ask  you  one  further  question.  My  art  has 
made  me  acquainted  that  a  dark  and  dan- 
gerous plot  is  hatching  against  the  King 
and  his  Government  by  certain  of  the  Ca- 
tholic party;  Are  you  favorable  to  the 
design]" 

"  I  am  not,"  replied  Viviana,  firmly. 
"  Nor  can  you  regard  it  with  more  horror 
than  myself." 

"  I  was  sure  of  it,"  returned  Dee. 
"  Nevertheless,  I  am  glad  to  have  my  sup- 
])osition  confirmed  from  your  own  mouth." 

With  this  he  moved  towards  the  door, 
but  Viviana  arrested  his  departure. 

"Slav,  reverend  sir,"  she  cried,  with  a 
look  of  great  uneasiness;  "if  you  are  in 
possession  of  this  dread  secret,  the  lives 
of  my  companions  are  in  your  power. 
You  will  not  betray  them.  Or,  if  you 
deem  it  your  duty  to  reveal  the  plot  to 
those  endangered  by  it,  you  will  give  its 
contrivers  timely  warning." 

"  Fear  nothing,"  rejoined  Dee.  "  lean- 
not,  were  1  so  disposed,  interfere  with  the 
fixed  purposes  of  fate.  The  things  re- 
vealed by  my  familiar  spirits  never  pass 
my  lips.    They  are  more  sacred  than  the 


70 


GUY    FAWKES. 


disclosures  made  to  a  priest  of  your  faith 
at  the  confessional.  The  bloody  enterprise 
on  which  these  zealots  are  bent  will  fail. 
I  have  warned  Fawkes;  but  my  warniiif]^, 
tliouo^h  conveyed  by  the  lips  of  the  dead, 
and  by  other  potent  conjurations,  was  un- 
availing. I  would  warn  Catesby  and 
Garnet,  but  they  would  heed  me  not.  Vi- 
viana  Kadcliife,"  he  continued,  in  a  solemn 
voice,  "you  questioned  me  just  now  about 
the  future.  Have  you  courage  to  make  the 
same  demand  from  your  dead  father]  If  so, 
I  will  compel  his  corpse  to  answer  you." 

"  Oh!  no — no,"  cried  Viviana,  horror- 
stricken;  "not  for  worlds  would  I  commit 
so  impious  an  act.  Gladly  as  I  would 
know  what  fate  has  in  store  for  me,  no- 
thing should  induce  me  to  purchase  the 
knowledge  at  so  dreadful  a  price." 

"  Farewell,  then,"  said  Dee.  "  At  mid- 
night, at  the  south  porch  of  the  Collegiate 
Church,  I  shall  expect  you." 

So  saying  he  took  his  departure;  and  on 
entering  the  gallery,  perceived  Catesby 
hastily  retreating. 

"  Aha!"  he  muttered.  "  We  have  had 
a  listener  here.  Well,  no  matter.  What 
he  has  heard  may  prove  serviceable  to 
him." 

He  then  returned  to  the  chamber  occu- 
pied by  Guy  Fawkes,  and  finding  he  had 
dropped  into  a  deep  and  tranquil  sleep, 
motioned  Kelley,  who  was  standing  by 
the  bedside  watching  his  slumbers  with 
folded  arms,  to  follow  him,  and  bowing 
gravely  to  Garnet,  quitted  the  hall. 

As  he  crossed  the  court,  on  his  way  to 
the  drawbridge,  (^atesby  suddenly  threw 
himself  in  his  path,  and  laying  his  hand 
upon  his  sword,  cried  in  a  menacing  voice 
— "Doctor  Dee,  neither  you  nor  your  com- 
panion shall  quit  the  hall  till  you  have 
solenmly  sworn  not  to  divulge  aught  per- 
taining to  the  plot,  of  which  you  have  so 
mysteriously  obtained  information." 

"  Is  this  my  recompense  for  rescuing 
your  comrade  from  the  jaws  of  death" 
sir]"  replied  Dee,  sternly. 

"  The  necessity  of  the  case  must  plead 
its  excuse,"  rejoined  Catesby.  "  ]\Iy  own 
safety,  and  the  safety  of  those  leagued 
with  me  in  the  great  design,  require  that 
I  sliould  be  peremptory  in  my  demand. 
Did  1  not  owe  you  a  large  debt  of  grati- 
tude for  your  resuscitation  of  Guy  Fawkes, 
I  would  have  insured  your  secrec)'  with 
your  life.  As  it  is,  I  will  be  content  with 
your  oath." 

"  Fool!"  exclaimed  Dee,  "  stand  aside, 
or  I  will  compel  you  to  do  so." 

"Think  not  to  terrify  me  by  idle 
threats,"  returned  Catesby.  "  I  willingly 
acknowledge  your  superior  skill — as,  In- 
deed, I  have  good  reason  to  do — in  the 
science  of  medicine;  but  I  have  no  faith 


in  your  magical  tricks.  A  little  reflection 
has  shown  me  how  the  knowledge  I  at  first 
thought  so  wonderful  was  acquired.  You 
obtained  it  by  means  of  Martin  Heydocke, 
who,  mounted  on  a  swift  steed,  reached 
the  College  before  me.  He  told  you  of 
the  object  of  my  visit— of  Viviana's  wish 
to  have  her  father  interred  in  the  Collegiate 
Church — of  her  message  to  Humphrey 
Chetham.  You,  were,  therefore,  fully 
prepared  for  my  arrival,  and  at  first,  I 
must  confess,  completely  imposed  upon 
me.  Nay,  had  I  not  overheard  your  con- 
versation just  now  with  Viviana,  I  might 
have  remained  your  dupe  still.  But  your 
allusion  to,Chetham's  visit  awakened  my 
suspicions,  and,  on  reconsiderinij  the  mat- 
ter, the  whole  trick  flashed  upon  me." 

"  What  morel"  demanded  Dee,  his 
brow  lowering,  and  his  eyes  sparkling 
with  rage. 

"  Thus  much,"  returned  Catesby.  "  I 
have  your  secret,  and  you  have  mine. 
And  though  the  latter  is  the  more  impor- 
tant, inasmuch  as  several  lives  hang  upon 
it,  whereas  a  conjuror's  worthless  reputa- 
tion is  alone  dependent  on  the  other,  yet 
both  must  be  kept.  Swear,  then,  not  to 
reveal  the  plot,  and  in  my  turn  1  will  take 
any  oath  you  choose  to  dictate  not  to  dis- 
close the  jugglery  I  ha%'e  detected." 

"  I  will  make  no  terms  with  you,"  re- 
turned Dee;  "and  if  I  do  not  reveal  your 
damnable  plot,  it  is  not  from  consideration 
of  you  or  your  associates,  but  because  the 
hour  for  its  disclosure  is  not  yet  arrived. 
When  full  proof  of  3'our  guilt  can  be  ob- 
tained, then  rest  assured  it  will  be  made 
known — though  not  by  me.  Not  one  of 
your  number  shall  escape — not  one." 

Catesby  again  laid  his  hand  upon  his 
sword,  and  seemed  from  his  looks  to  be 
meditating  the  destruction  of  the  Doctor 
and  his  assistant.  But  they  appeared 
wholly  unconcerned  at  his  glances. 

"  What  you  have  said  concerning  Mar- 
tin Heydocke  is  false — as  false  as  your 
own  foul  and  bloody  scheme,"  pursued 
Dee.  "  I  have  neither  seen,  nor  spoken 
with  him." 

"  But  your  assistant,  Edward  Kelley 
has,"  retorted  Catesby,  "  and  that  amounts 
to  the  same  thing." 

"  For  the  third  and  last  time  I  command 
you  to  stand  aside,"  cried  Dee,  in  a  tone 
of  concentrated  anger. 

Catesby  laughed  aloud. 

"  What  if  I  refuse''"  he  said,  in  a  jeer- 
ing voice. 

Doctor  Dee  made  no  answer;  but,  sud- 
denly drawing  a  small  phial  from  beneath 
his  robe,  cast  its  contents  in  his  opponent's 
face.  Blinded  by  the  spirit,  Catesby  raised 
his  hand  to  his  eyes,  and  while  in  this 
condition  a  thick  cloth  was  thrown  over 


GUY     FAWKES. 


71 


his  head  from  behind,  and,  despite  liis  re- 
sistance, he  was  borne  ofl",  and  bound  with 
a  strontr  cord  to  an  adjoining-  tree. 

Half  an  hour  elapsed,  during  which  he 
exhausted  his  fury  in  vain  outcries  for 
assistance,  and  execrations  and  menaces 
against  Dee  and  his  companion.  At  the 
expiration  of  that  time,  hearino^  steps  ap- 
proaching, he  called  loudly  to  be  released, 
and  was  answered  by  the  voice  of  Martin 
Heydocke. 

"  What!  is  it  your  worship  T  beholdl" 
cried  IMartin,  in  a  tone  of  affected  com- 
miseration. "  Mercy  on  us!  what  has 
happened?  Have  the  rascally  searchers 
been  here  again?" 

"Hold  your  peace,  knave,  and  unbind 
me,"  rejoined  Catesby,  angrily.  1  shrewd- 
ly suspect,"  he  added,  as  his  commands 
were  obeyed,  and  the  cord  twined  around 
his  arms  Avas  unfastened,  and  the  cloth 
removed — "I  shrewdly  suspect,"  he  said, 
fixing  a  stern  glance  upon  Martin,  wiiich 
effectually  banished  the  smile  from  his 
demure  countenance,  "  that  you  have  had 
some  share  in  this  business." 

"What  I,  your  worship?"  exclaimed 
Martin.  "  Not  the  slightest,  I  assure  you. 
It  was  by  mere  chance  I  came  this  way, 
and,  perceiving  some  one  tied  to  a  tree, 
was  about  to  take  to  my  heels,  when, 
fancying  I  recognised  your  worship's  well- 
formed  legs,  I  ventured  forward." 

"  You  shall  become  more  intimately  ac- 
quainted with  my  worship's  boots,  rascal, 
if  I  find  ray  suspicions  correct,"  rejoined 
Catesby.  "  Have  you  the  effrontery  to 
tell  me  you  have  never  seen  this  rope,  and 
this  cloth  before?" 

"  Certes,  I  have,  your  worship,"  replied 
Martin.  "  May  the  first  hang  me,  and  the 
last  serve  as  my  winding-sheet,  if  I  speak 
not  the  truth!  Ah,  now  I  look  again,"  he 
added,  pretending  to  examine  them,  "it 
must  be  a  horse-cloth  and  halter  from  the 
stable.     Peradventure,  I  leave  seen  them." 

"That  1  will  be  sworn  you  have,  and 
used  them  too,"  rejoined  Catesby.  "I 
am  half  inclined  to  tie  you  to  the  tree  in 
my  place.  But  where  is  your  employer? 
— where  is  Doctor  Dee?" 

"  Doctor  Dee  is  not  my  employer," 
answered  IMartin,  "  neither  do  I  serve  him. 
Humpiirey  Chelham,  as  1  have  already 
told  your  worship,  is  my  master.  As  to 
the  Doctor,  he  left  the  hall  some  time 
since.  Father  Garnet  thought  you  had 
accompanied  him  on  the  road.  1  have 
seen  notiiing  of  him.  Of  a  truth  I  have 
not." 

Catesby  redccted  a  moment,  and  then 
strode  towards  the  hall,  while  Martin, 
with  a  secret  smile,  picked  up  the  halter 
and  cloth,  and  withdrew  to  the  stai)le. 

Kepairing  to  the  chamber  of  the  wound- 


ed man,  Catesby  found  Garnet  seated  by 
his  couch,  and  related  what  had  occurred. 
The  Jesuit  listened  with  profound  atten- 
tion to  the  recital,  and  on  its  conclusion 
observed — 

"  I  am  sorry  you  have  offended  Doctor 
Dee,  my  son.  He  might  have  proved  a 
good  fiiend.  As  it  is,  you  have  made  him 
a  dangerous  enemy." 

"  He  was  not  to  be  trusted,  father,"  re- 
turned Catesby.  "  But  if  you  have  any 
fears  of  him,  or  Kelley,  I  will  speedily 
set  them  at  rest." 

"  No  violence,  my  son,"  rejoined  Gar- 
net. "You  will  only  increase  the  mis- 
chief you  have  already  occasioned.  I  do 
not  think  Dee  will  betray  us.  But  addi- 
tional circumspection  will  be  requisite. 
Tarry  here  while  I  confer  with  Viviana 
on  this  subject.  She  has  apparently  some 
secret  influence  with  the  Doctor  and  may 
be  prevailed  upon  to  exercise  it  in  our 
behalf." 

It  was  long  before  Garnet  returned. 
When  he  reappeared,  his  looks  convinced 
Catesby  that  the  interview  had  not  proved 
satisfactory. 

"Your  imprudeuce  has  placed  us  in  a 
perilous  position,  my  son,"  he  observed. 
Viviana  refuses  to  speak  to  Doctor  Dee  on 
the  subject,  and  strongly  reprobates  your 
conduct." 

Catesby's  brow  lowered. 

"There  is  but  one  course  to  pursue," 
he  muttered,  rising,  "  our  lives  or  his  must 
be  sacrificed.     I  will  act  at  once." 

"Hold!"  exclaimed  Garnet,  authorita- 
tively. "Wait  till  to-morrow;  and,  if 
aught  occurs  in  the  interim  to  confirm 
your  suspicions,  do  as  you  think  proper. 
1  will  not  oppose  you." 

"If  I  forbear  so  long,"  returned  Cates- 
by, "  it  will-not  be  safe  to  remain  here." 

"I  will  risk  it,"  said  Garnet,  "and  I 
counsel  you  to  do  the  same.  You  will 
not  leave  Viviana  at  this  strait." 

"I  have  no  such  thoughts,"  replied 
Catesby.     "If  I  go,  she  goes  too." 

"Then  it  will  be  in  vain,  I  am  sure,  to 
induce  her  to  accompany  you  till  her  father 
is  interred,"  observed  Garnet. 

"True,"  replied  Catesby;  "I  had  for- 
gotten that.  W'e  shall  meet  the  hoary 
juggler  at  the  churcii,  and  an  opportunity 
may  occur  for  executing  my  purpose  there. 
Unless  he  will  swear  at  the  altar  not  to 
betray  us,  he  shall  die  by  my  hand." 

"  An  oath  in  such  a  case  would  be  no 
security,  my  son,"  returned  Garnet;  "and 
ills  slaughter  and  that  of  his  coni])anion 
would  be  (;(|ually  inefficacious,  and  greatly 
prejudicial  to  our  cause.  If  he  means  to 
l)etray  us,  he  has  done  so  already.  But 
I  have  little  apprehension.  I  do  not  think 
him  well  affected  towards  the  government, 


72 


GUY     FAWKES. 


and  I  cannot  hut  lliink,  if  you  had  not 
thus  grossly  insuUod  liim,  he  would  have 
favored  rather  than  opposed  our  desi<Tn. 
If  he  was  aware  of  the  plot,  and  adverse 
to  it,  what  need  was  there  to  exert  his 
skill  in  behalf  of  our  dying  friend,  who, 
but  for  him,  would  have  been,  ere  this,  a 
lump  of  lifeless  clay]  No,  no,  my  son. 
You  are  far  too  hasty  in  your  judgment. 
Nor  am  1  less  surprised  at  your  injustice. 
Overlooking  the  groat  benefit  he  has  con- 
ferred upon  us,  because  Doctor  Dee  has 
thwarted  some  trifling  scheme,  you  would 
requiie  him  by  cutting  his  throat." 

"Your  rebuke  is  just,  father,"  returned 
Catesby.  "I  have  acted  heedless!}^.  But 
I  will  endeavor  to  repair  my  error." 

"  Enough,  my  son,"  replied  Garnet. 
"It  will  he  advisable  to  go  well  armed  to 
the  church  to-night,  for  fear  of  a  surprise. 
But  I  shall  not  absent  myself  on  that 
account." 

"Nor  I,"  said  Catesby, 

The  conversation  was  then  carried  on 
on  other  topics,  when  they  were  interrupt- 
ed by  the  entrance  of  Viviana,  who  came 
to  consult  them  about  the  funeral.  It  was 
arranged — since  better  could  not  be  found 
— that  the  vehicle  used  to  bring-  thither 
the  body  of  the  unfortunate  knight  should 
transport  it  to  its  last  home.  No  persua- 
sions of  Garnet  could  induce  Viviana  to 
relinquish  the  idea  of  attending  the  cere- 
mony; and  Catesby,  though  he  affected 
the  contrary,  secretly  rejoiced  at  her  de- 
termination. Martin  Heydocke  was  next 
despatched  in  search  of  assistants  who 
could  be  depended  upon,  and  the  rest  of 
the  day  was  passed  in  preparations  for  the 
melancholy  business. 

Night  came,  and  all  was  in  readiness. 
Viviana  to  the  last  indulged  a  hope  that 
Humphrey  Chetham  would  arrive  in  time 
to  attend  the  funeral  with  her;  but,  as  he 
did  not  appear,  she  concluded  he  had 
received  Doctor  Dee's  warning.  Martin 
Heydocke  was  left  in  charge  of  Guy 
Fawkes,  who  still  continued  to  slumber 
deeply,  and,  when  within  half  an  hour  of 
the  appointed  time,  the  train  set  out. 

Tliey  were  all  well  mounted,  and  pro- 
ceeded at  a  slow  pace  along  the  lane  skirt- 
ing the  west  bank  of  the  Irwell.  The  night 
was  profoundly  dark;  and,  as  it  was  not 
deemed  prudent  to  carry  torches,  some 
care  w-as  requisite  to  keep  in  the  right 
road.  Catesby  rode  first,  and  was  fol- 
lowed by  (iarnet  and  Viviana,  after  whom 
came  the  little  vehicle  containing  the  body. 
The  rear  was  l)rought  up  by  two  attend- 
ants, hired  by  Martin  Heydocke;  a  third 
acting  as  driver  of  the  sorry  substitute  for 
a  hearse.  Not  a  word  was  uttered  by  any 
of  the  party.  In  this  stealthy  manner 
was  the  once-powerful  and   wealthy  !Sir 


William  RadcliflTe.  the  owner  of  the  whole 
district  tlirougli  which  they  were  passing, 
conveyed  to  the  burial  place  of  his  ances- 
tors! 

In  shorter  time  than  they  had  allowed 
themselves  for  the  journey,  the  melancholy 
cavalcade  reached  Salford  Bridge,  and 
crossing  it  at  a  quick  pace,  as  had  been 
previously  arranged  by  Catesby,  arrived 
without  molestation  or  notice  (for  no  one 
was  abroad  in  the  town  at  that  hour,)  at 
the  southern  gate  of  the  Collegiate  Church, 
where,  it  may  be  remembered,  Guy  Fawkes 
had  witnessed  the  execution  of  the  two 
seminary  priests,  and  on  the  spikes  of 
which  their  headsand  dismembered  bodies 
were  now  fixed.  An  old  man  here  pre- 
sented himself,  and,  unlockingr  the  gate, 
informed  them  he  was  Robert  Burnell,  the 
sexton.  The  shell  was  then  taken  out, 
and  borne  on  the  shoulders  of  the  two  as- 
sistants towards  the  church,  Burnell  lead- 
ing the  way.  Garnet  followed;  and  as 
soon  as  Catesby  had  committed  the  horses 
to  the  care  of  the  driver  of  the  carriage,  he 
tendered  his  arm  to  Viviana,  who  could 
scarcely  have  reached  the  sacred  structure 
unsupported. 

Doctor  Dee  met  them  at  the  church 
porch,  as  he  had  appointed,  and,  as  soon 
as  they  had  passed  through  it,  the  door 
was  locked.  Addressing-  a  few  words  in 
an  under  tone  to  Viviana,  but  not  deigning 
to  notice  either  of  her  companions.  Dee 
directed  the  bearers  of  the  body  to  follow 
him,  and  proceeded  towards  the  choir. 

The  interior  of  the  reverend  and  beau- 
tiful fane  was  buried  in  profound  gloom, 
and  the  feeble  light  diffused  by  the  sex- 
ton's lantern  only  made  the  darkness  more 
palpable.  On  entering  the  broad  and  noble 
nave  nothing  could  be  seen  of  its  clustered 
pillars,  or  of  the  exquisite  pointed  arches, 
enriched  with  cinquefoil  and  quatrefoil, 
enclosing  blank  shields,  which  they  sup- 
ported. Neither  could  its  sculptured  cor- 
nice; its  clerestory  windows;  its  upper 
range  of  columns  supporting  demi-angels, 
playing  on  musical  instruments;  its  mould- 
ed roof  crossed  by  transverse  beams,  en- 
riched in  the  interstices  with  sc\ilptured 
ornaments,  be  distinguished.  Most  of 
these  architectural  glories  were  invisible. 
But  the  very  gloom  in  which  they  were 
shrouded  was  imposing.  As  the  dim  light 
fell  upon  pillar  after  pillar  as  they  passed, 
revealing  their  mouldings,  piercing  a  few 
feet  into  the  side  aisles,  and  falling  upon 
the  grotesque  heads,  the  embattled  orna- 
ments and  grotesque  tracery  of  the  arches, 
the  effect  was  inexpressibly  striking. 

Nor  were  the  personages  inappropriate 
to  the  sombre  scene.  The  reverend  figure 
of  Dee,  with  his  loose  flowintj  robe,  and 
long  white  beard;  the  priestly  garb  and 


GUY     FAWKES. 


73 


grave  aspect  of  Garnet;  the  soldier-like 
bearing  of  Catesby,  his  armed  heel,  and 
rapier  point  clanking  upon  the  pavement; 
the  drooping  figure  of  Viviana,  whose  fea- 
tures were  buried  in  her  kerchief,  and 
whose  sobs  were  distinctly  audible;  the 
strangely-fashioned  coffin,  and  the  uncouth 
attendants  by  whom  it  was  borne; — all 
constituted  a  singular,  and  at  the  sauie 
time  deeply  interesting  picture. 

Approaching  the  magnificent  screen  ter- 
minating the  nave,  they  passed  through 
an  arched  gateway  within  it,  and  entered 
the  choir.  The  west-end  of  this  part  of 
the  church  was  assigned  as  the  burial- 
place  of  tiie  ancient  and  honorable  family, 
the  head  of  which  was  about  to  be  depo- 
sited within  it,  and  was  designated,  from 
from  the  circumstance,  the  "  Radclilfe 
chancel."  A  long  slab  of  grey  marble, 
in  which  a  brass  plate,  displaying  the 
armorial  bearings  of  the  Radclitl'es,  was 
inserted,  had  been  removed,  and  the  earth 
thrown  out  of  the  cavity  beneath  it.  Kel- 
ley,  who  had  assisted  in  making  the  exca- 
vation, was  standing  beside  it,  leaning  on 
a  spade,  with  a  lantern  at  his  feet.  He 
drew  aside  as  the  funeral  train  approached, 
and  the  shell  was  deposited  at  the  edge  of 
the  grave. 

Picturesque  and  striking  as  was  the 
scene  in  the  nave,  it  fell  far  short  of  that 
now  exhibited.  Tiie  choir  of  the  Colle- 
giate Church  at  Manchester  may  chal- 
lenge comparison  with  any  similar  struc- 
ture. Its  thirty  elaborately-carved  stalls, 
covered  with  canopies  of  the  richest  ta- 
bernacle work,  surmounted  by  niches, 
mouldings,  pinnacles,  and  perforated  tra- 
cery, and  crowned  with  a  richly  sculptured 
cornice;  its  side  aisles,  with  their  pillars 
and  arches;  its  moulded  ceiling  rich  in 
the  most  delicate  and  fairy  tracery;  its 
gorgeous  altar-screen  of  carved  oak;  and 
its  magnificent  eastern  window,  then  filled 
with  stained  glass,  form  a  coup  cfoiil  of 
almost  unequalled  splendor  and  beauty. 
Few  of  these  marvels  could  now  be  seen. 
But  such  points  of  the  pinnacles  and  hang- 
ing canopies  of  the  stalls,  of  the  fagades 
of  the  side-aisles,  and  of  the  fretted  roof, 
as  received  any  portion  of  the  light,  came 
in  with  admirable  effect. 

"All  is  prepared,  you  perceive,"  ob- 
served Dee  to  Viviana.  "1  will  retire 
while  the  ceremony  is  performed."  And 
gravely  inclining  his  head,  he  passed 
through  an  arched  door  in  the  south  aisle, 
and  entered  the  chapter-house. 

Garnet  was  about  to  proceed  with  the 
service  appointed  by  the  Romish  Church 
for  the  burial  of  the  dead,  when  Viviana, 
uttering  a  loud  cry,  would  have  fallen,  if 
Catesby  had  not  tlown  to  her  assistance, 
and  borne  her  to  one  of  the  stalls.     Re- 


covering her  self-possession  the  next  mo- 
ment, she  entreated  him  to  leave  her;  and 
while  the  service  proceeded,  she  knelt 
down  and  prayed  fervently  for  the  soul  of 
the  departed. 

Placing  himself  at  the  foot  of  the  body. 
Garnet  sprinkled  it  wuth  holy  water,  which 
he  had  brought  with  him  in  a  small  silver 
consecrated  vessel.  He  then  recited  the 
Be  Profundis,  the  Miserere,  and  other  anti- 
phons  and  prayers;  placed  incense  in  a 
burner,  which  he  had  likewise  brought 
with  him,  and  having  lighted  it,  bowed 
reverently  towards  the  altar,  sprinkled  the 
body  thrice  with  holy  water  at  the  sides, 
at  the  head,  and  the  feet;  and  then  walk- 
ing round  it  with  the  incense-burner,  dis- 
persed its  fragrant  odor  over  it.  This 
done,  he  recited  another  prayer,  pro- 
nounced a  solemn  benediction  over  the 
place  of  sepulture,  and  the  body  was 
lowered  into  it. 

The  noise  of  the  earth  falling  upon  the 
shell  roused  Viviana  from  her  devotions. 
She  looked  towards  the  grave,  but  could 
see  nothing  but  the  gloomy  group  around 
it,  prominent  among  which  appeared  the 
tall  figure  of  Catesby.  The  sight  w^as 
too  much  for  her,  and,  unable  to  control 
her  grief,  she  fainted.  Meanwhile,  the 
grave  was  rapidly  filled,  all  lending  their 
aid  to  the  task,  and  nothing  was  wanting 
but  to  restore  the  slab  to  its  original  posi- 
tion. Uy  the  united  efforts  of  Catesby, 
Kelley,  and  the  sexton,  this  was  soon  ac- 
complished, and  the  former,  unaware  of 
what  had  happened,  was  about  to  proceed 
to  Viviana  to  tell  her  all  was  over,  when 
he  was  arrested  by  a  loud  knocking  at  the 
church  door,  accompanied  by  a  clamorous 
demand  for  admittance. 

"  We  are  betrayed!"  exclaimed  Cates- 
by. "  It  is  as  1  suspected.  Take  care  of 
Viviana,  father.  I  will  after  the  hoary 
impostor,  and  cleave  his  skull.  Extin- 
guish the  lights— quick! — quick!" 

Garnet  hastily  complied  with  these  in- 
junctions, and  the  choir  was  plunged  in 
total  darkness.  He  then  rushed  to  the 
stalls,  but  could  nowhere  find  Viviana. 
He  called  her  by  name,  but  received  no 
answer,  and  was  continuing  his  fruitless 
search,  when  he  heard  footsteps  approach- 
ing, and  the  voice  of  Catesby  exclaimed, 

"  Follow  me  with  your  charge,  father." 

"Alas!  my  son,  she  is  not  here,"  re- 
plied Garnet.  "I  have  searched  each 
stall  as  carefully  as  I  could  in  the  dark. 
I  fear  she  has  been  spirited  away." 

"Impossible!"  cried  Catesby.  And  he 
ran  his  hand  along  the  row  of  sculptured 
seats,  but  without  success.  "She  is  in- 
deed gone!"  he  exclaimed,  distractedly. 
"  It  was  here  1  left  her — nay,  here  1  be- 
held her  at  the  very  moment  the  lights 


74 


GUY     FAWKES. 


were  extinguished.     Viviana! — Viviana!" 
But  all  was  silent. 

"It  is  that  cursed  magician's  handi- 
work!" he  continued,  striking  his  forehead 
in  despair. 

"  Did  you  find  himi"  demanded  Gar- 
net. 

"No,"  replied  Catesby.  "The  door 
of  the  chapter-house  was  locked  inside. 
The  treacherous  villain  did  well  to  guard 
against  my  fury." 

"  You  provoked  his  resentment,  my 
son,"  rejoined  Garnet.  "  But  this  is  not 
a  season  for  reproaches.  Something  must 
be  done.     Where  is  Kelley?" 

xVt  the  suggestion,  Catesby  instantly 
darted  to  the  spot  where  tiie  seer  had 
stood.  He  was  not  there.  He  then  ques- 
tioned the  assistants,  whose  teeth  were 
chattering  with  fright,  but  they  had  nei- 
ther heard  him  depart,  nor  could  tell  any- 
thing about  him;  and  perceiving  plainly 
from  their  trepidation  that  these  men 
would  lend  no  aid,  even  if  they  did  not 
join  the  assailants,  he  returned  to  commu- 
nicate his  apprehensions  to  Garnet. 

During  all  this  time,  the  knocking  and 
vociferations  at  the  door  had  continued 
with  increased  violence,  and  reverberated 
in  hollow  peals  along  the  roof  and  aisles 
of  the  church. 

The  emergency  was  a  fearful  one. 
Catesby,  however,  had  been  too  often 
placed  in  situations  of  peril,  and  was  too 
constitutionally  brave,  to  experience  much 
uneasiness  for  himself;  but  his  apprehen- 
sions lest  Garnet  should  be  captured,  and 
the  sudden  and  mysterious  disappearance 
of  Viviana  almost  distracted  him.  Per- 
suading himself  she  might  have  fallen  to 
the  ground,  or  that  he  had  overlooked  the 
precise  spot  where  he  had  left  her,  he 
renewed  his  search,  but  with  no  better 
success  than  before;  and  he  was  almost 
beginning  to  believe  that  some  magic 
might  have  been  practised  to  cause  her 
disappearance,  when  it  occurred  to  him 
that  she  had  been  carried  off  by  Kelley. 

"  Fool  that  I  was,  not  to  think  of  that 
before!"  he  exclaimed.  "  I  have  uninten- 
tionally aided  their  project  by  extinguish- 
ing the  lights.  But,  now  that  1  am  satis- 
fied she  is  gone,  I  can  devote  my  whole 
energies  to  the  preservation  of  Garnet. 
They  shall  not  capture  us  so  easily  as 
they  anticipate." 

With  this,  he  approached  the  priest, 
and  grasping  his  hand,  drew  him  noise- 
lessly along.  They  had  scarcely  passed 
through  the  arched  doorway  in  the  screen, 
and  set  fool  within  the  nave,  when  the 
clamor  without  ceased.  The  next  mo- 
ment a  thundering  crash  was  heard,  the 
tloor  burst  open,  and  a  number  of  armed 
figures  bearing  torches,  with  drawn  swords 


in  their  hands,  rushed  with  loud  vocifera- 
tions into  the  church. 

"  We  must  surrender,  my  son,"  cried 
Garnet.  "  It  will  be  useless  to  contend 
against  that  force." 

"  But  we  may  yet  escape  them,"  re- 
joined Catesby.  And  glancing  hastily 
round,  he  perceived  a  small  open  door  in 
the  wall  at  the  right,  and  pointing  it  out 
to  the  priest,  hurried  towards  it. 

On  reaching  it,  they  found  it  communi- 
cated with  a  flight  of  stone  steps,  evidently 
leading  to  the  roof. 

"  Saved!  saved!"  cried  Catesby,  trium- 
phantly. "  Mount  first,  father.  I  will 
defend  the  passage." 

The  pursuers,  who  saw  the  course  taken 
by  the  fugitives,  set  up  a  loud  shout,  and 
ran  as  swiftly  as  they  could  in  the  same 
direction,  and  by  the  time  the  latter  had 
gained  the  door  they  were  within  a  few 
yards  of  it.  Garnet  darted  up  the  steps; 
but  Catesby  lingered  to  make  fast  the  door, 
and  thus  oppose  some  obstacle  to  the  hos- 
tile party.  His  efforts,  however,  were  un- 
expectedly checked,  and,  on  examination, 
he  found  it  was  hooked  to  the  wall  at  the 
back.  Undoing  the  fastening,  the  door 
swung  to,  and  he  instantly  bolted  it.  Over- 
joyed at  his  success,  and  leaving  his  pur- 
suers, who  at  this  moment  arrived,  to  vent 
their  disappointment  in  loud  menaces,  he 
hastened  after  Garnet.  Calling  loudly  to 
him,  he  was  answered  from  a  small  dark 
chamber  on  the  right,  into  which  the  priest 
had  retreated. 

"  We  have  but  prolonged  our  torture," 
groaned  Garnet.  "  1  can  find  no  outlet. 
Our  foes  will  speedily  force  an  entrance, 
and  we  must  then  fall  into  their  hands." 

"  There  must  be  some  door  opening 
upon  the  roof,  father,"  rejoined  Catesby. 
"  Mount  as  high  as  you  can  go,  and  search 
carefully.  I  will  defend  the  stairs,  and 
will  undertake  to  maintain  my  post  against 
the  whole  rout." 

Tiius  urged.  Garnet  ascended  the  steps. 
After  the  lapse  of  a  few  minutes,  during 
which  the  thundering  at  the  door  below 
increased,  and  the  heavy  blows  of  some 
weighty  implement  directed  against  it, 
were  distinctly  heard,  he  cried, 

"  I  have  found  a  door,  but  the  bolts  are 
rusty — I  cannot  move  them." 

"  Use  all  your  strength,  father,"  shout- 
ed Catesby,  who  having  planted  himself 
with  his  drawn  sword  at  an  advantageous 
point,  was  listening  with  intense  anxiety 
to  the  exertions  of  the  assailing  party. 
"  Do  not  relax  your  efforts  for  a  moment." 

"  It  is  in  vain,  my  son,"  rejoined  Garnet, 

in   accents  of  despair.     "  My   hands  are 

bruised  and  blepding,buttheboltsstirnot." 

"  Distraction!"  cried  Catesby,  gnashing 

his  teeth  with  rage.     "  Let  me  try." 


GUY    FAWKES, 


75 


And  he  was  about  to  hasten  to  the 
priest's  assistance,  when  the  door  below 
was  burst  open  with  a  loud  crash,  and  the 
assailants  rushed  up  the  steps.  The  pas- 
sage was  so  narrow,  that  they  were  com- 
pelled to  mount  singly,  and  Catesby's  was 
scarcely  a  vain  boast  when  he  said  he 
could  maintain  his  ground  against  the 
whole  host.  Shouting  to  Garnet  to  re- 
new his  efforts,  he  prepared  for  the  as- 
sault. Reserving  his  petronels  to  the 
last,  he  trusted  solely  to  his  rapier,  and 
leaning  against  the  newel,  or  circular 
column  round  which  the  stairs  twined,  he 
was  in  a  great  measure  defended  from  the 
weapons  of  his  adversaries,  while  they 
were  completely  exposed  to  his  attack. 
The  darkness,  moreover,  in  which  he  was 
enveloped  offered  an  additional  protection, 
whereas  the  torches  they  carried  made  his 
mark  certain.  As  soon  as  the  foremost 
of  the  band  came  within  reach,  Catesby 
plunged  his  sword  into  his  breast,  and 
pushed  him  back  with  all  his  force  upon 
his  comrades.  The  man  fell  heavily  back- 
wards, dislodging  the  next  in  advance,  who 
in  his  turn  upset  his  successor,  and  so  on, 
till  the  whole  band  was  thrown  into  con- 
fusion. A  discharge  of  fire-arms  followed; 
but,  sheltered  by  the  newel,  Catesby  sus- 
tained no  injury.  At  this  moment,  he  was 
cheered  by  a  cry  from  Garnet  that  he  had 
succeeded  in  forcing  back  the  bolts,  terror 
having  supplied  him  with  a  strength  not 
his  own;  and,  making  another  sally  upon 
his  assailants,  amid  the  disorder  that  en- 
sued, Catesby  retreated,  and  rapidly  track- 
ing the  steps,  reached  the  door,  through 
which  the  priest  had  already  passed.  When 
within^a  short  distance  of  the  outlet,  Cates- 
by felt,  from  the  current  of  fresh  air  that 
saluted  him,  that  it  opened  upon  the  roof 
of  the  church.  Nor  was  he  deceived.  A 
few  steps  placed  him  upon  the  leads, 
where  he  found  Garnet. 

"  It  is  you,  my  son,"  cried  the  latter,  on 
beholding  lum;  "  I  tliought  from  the  shouts 
you  had  fallen  into  the  liands  of  tlie  ene- 
my." 

"No,  Heaven  be  praised!  1  am  as  yet 
safe,  and  trust  to  deliver  you  out  of  their 
hands.  Come  with  me  to  tlie  l)attlemenls." 

"The  battlements!"  exclaimed  Garnet. 
"A  leap  from  such  a  height  as  that  were 
certain  destruction," 

"It were  so,"  replied  Catesby,  dragging 
him  along.  "But  trust  to  me,  and  you 
shall  yet  reach  the  ground  uninjured." 

Arrived  at  the  battlements,  Catesby 
leaned  over  them,  and  endeavored  to  as- 
certain what  was  beneath.  It  was  still  so 
dark  that  he  could  scarcely  discern  any 
objects  but  those  close  to  him,  hut  as  fiu 
as  he  could  trust  his  vision,  ho  thought 
he  perceived  a  projecting  building  some 


twelve  or  fourteen  feet  below;  and  callino- 
to  mind  the  form  of  the  church,  which  he 
had  frequently  seen  and  admired,  he  re- 
membered its  chantries,  and  had  no  doubt 
but  it  was  the  roof  of  one  of  them  that  he 
beheld.  If  he  could  reach  it,  the  descent 
from  thence  would  be  easy,  and  he  imme- 
diately communicated  the  idea  to  Garnet, 
who  shrank  aghast  from  it.  Little  time, 
however,  was  allowed  for  consideration. 
Their  pursuers  had  already  scaled  the 
stairs,  and  were  springing  one  after  an- 
other upon  the  leads,  uttering  the  most 
terrible  threats  against  the  destroyer  of 
their  comrade.  Hastily  divesting  himself 
of  his  cloak,  Catesby  clambered  over  the 
battlements,  and  impelled  by  fear.  Garnet 
threw  off  his  robe  and  followed  his  ex- 
ample. Clinging  to  the  grotesque  stone 
water-spouts  which  projected  below  the 
battlements,  and  placing  the  points  of  his 
feet  upon  the  arches  of  the  clerestory  win- 
dows, and  thence  upon  the  muUions  and 
transom  bars,  Catesby  descended  in  safety, 
and  then  turned  to  assist  his  companion, 
who  was  quickly  by  his  side. 

The  most  difficult  and  dangerous  part  of 
the  descent  was  yet  to  be  accomplished. 
They  were  now  nearly  thirty  feet  from  the 
ground,  and  the  same  irregularities  in  the 
walls  which  had  favored  them  in  the  upper 
structure  did  not  exist  in  the  lower.  But 
their  present  position,  exposed  as  it  was 
to  their  pursuers,  who,  having  reached  the 
point  immediately  overhead,  were  pre- 
paring to  fire  upon  them,  was  too  danger- 
ous to  allow  of  its  occupation  for  a  moment, 
and  Garnet  required  no  urging  to  make 
him  clamber  over  the  low  embattled  para- 
pet. Descending  a  fl)'ing  buttress  that 
defended  an  angle  of  the  building,  Cates- 
by, who  was  possessed  of  great  strength 
and  activity,  was  almost  instantly  upon 
the  ground.  Garnet  was  not  so  fortunate. 
Missing  his  footing,  he  fell  from  a  con- 
siderable height,  and  his  groans  proclaim- 
ed that  he  had  received  some  serious  in- 
jury. Catesby  instantly  flew  to  him,  and 
demanded,  in  a  tone  of  tiie  greatest  anxiety, 
whether  he  was  much  hurt, 

"  My  right  arm  is  broken,"  gasped  the 
sufferer,  raising  himself  with  difficulty. 
"What  other  injuries  I  have  sustained  I 
know  not;  but  every  joint  seems  dislo- 
cated, and  my  face  is  covered  with  blood. 
Heaven  have  pity  on  me!" 

As  he  spoke,  a  siiout  of  exultation  arose 
from  the  hostile  party,  vi'ho  having  heard 
Garnet's  fall,  and  the  groans  that  suc- 
ceeded it,  at  once  divined  the  cause,  and 
made  sure  of  a  capture.  A  deep  silence 
followed,  proving  that  they  had  (itiilted  the 
roof,  and  were  hasteninir  to  secure  their 


prey 


Aware  that  it  would  take  ihem  some 


76 


GUY    FAWKES. 


little  time  to  descend  the  winding  stair- 
case, and  traverse  the  long  aisle  of  the 
church,  Catesby  felt  certain  of  distancing 
them.  But  he  could  not  abandon  Garnet, 
who  had  become  insensible  from  the  agony 
of  his  fractured  limb,  and  lifting  him  care- 
fully in  his  arms,  he  placed  him  upon  his 
shoulder,  and  started  at  a  swift  pace  to- 
wards the  further  extremity  of  the  church- 
yard. 

At  the  period  of  this  history,  the  western 
boundary  of  the  Collegiate  Church  was 
covered  by  a  precipitous  sandstone  rock 
of  great  height,  the  base  of  which  was 
washed  by  the  waters  of  the  Irwell,  while 
its  summit  was  guarded  by  a  low  stone 
wall.  In  after  years,  a  range  of  small 
habitations  was  built  upon  this  spot,  but 
they  have  been  recently  removed,  and  the 
rock  having  been  lowered,  a  road  now 
occupies  their  site.  Nerved  by  despera- 
tion, Catesby,  who  was  sufficiently  well 
accjuainted  with  the  locality  to  know 
whither  he  was  shaping  his  course,  de- 
termined to  hazard  a  descent,  W'hich, 
under  calmer  circumstances  he  would 
have  deemed  w'holly  impracticable.  His 
pursuers,  w-ho  issued  from  the  church 
porch  a  few  seconds  after  he  had  passed 
it,  saw  him  hurry  towards  the  low  wall 
edging  the  precipice,  and,  encumbered  as 
he  was  with  the  priest,  vault  over  it.  Not 
deeming  it  possible  he  would  dare  to 
spring  from  such  a  height,  they  darted 
after  him.     But  they  w^ere  deceived,  and 


could  scarcely  credit  their  senses,  when 
they  found  him  gone.  Holding  down 
their  torches,  they  perceived  him  shooting 
down  the  almost  perpendicular  side  of  the 
rock,  and  the  next  moment  a  hollow 
plunge  told  that  he  had  reached  the  water. 
They  stared  at  each  other  in  mute  asto- 
nishment. 

"Will  you  follow  him,  Dick  Haugh- 
ton?"  observed  one,  as  soon  as  he  had 
recovered  his  speech. 

"Not  I,"  replied  the  fellow  addressed. 
"I  have  no  fancy  for  a  broken  neck. 
Follow  him  thyself  if  thou  hast  a  mind 
to  try  the  soundness  of  thy  pate.  I  war- 
rant that  rock  will  put  it  to  the  proof." 

"Yet  the  feat  has  just  been  done,  and 
by  one  burthened  with  a  wounded  com- 
rade into  the  bargain,"  remarked  the  first 
speaker. 

"  He  must  be  the  devil,  that's  certain," 
rejoined  Haughton,  "and  Doctor  Dee 
himself  is  no  match  for  him." 

•'He  has  the  devil's  luck,  that's  cer- 
tain," cried  a  third  soldier.  "  But  hark! 
he  is  swimming  across  the  river.  We 
may  yet  catch  him  on  the  opposite  bank. 
Come  along,  comrades." 

With  this,  they  rushed  out  of  the  church- 
yard; made  the  best  of  their  way  to  the 
bridge;  and  crossing  it,  flew  to  the  bank 
of  the  river,  where  they  dispersed  in  every 
direction,  in  search  for  the  fugitive.  But 
they  could  not  discover  a  trace  of  him,  or 
his  wounded  companion. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 
THE  RENCOUNTER. 


Catesby  himself  could  scarcely  tell  how 
he  accomplished  his  hairbreadth  escape. 
Reckless  almost  of  the  result,  he  slid  down 
the  rock,  catching  at  occasional  irregulari- 
ties as  he  descended.  The  river  was  of 
great  depth  at  this  point,  and  broke  the 
force  of  his  fall.  On  rising,  he  struck  out 
a  few-  yards,  and  suffered  himself  to  be 
carried  down  the  stream.  He  had  never 
for  one  moment  relinquished  his  hold  of 
Garnet,  and  being  an  admirable  swimmer, 
found  no  difficulty  in  sustaining  him  with 
one  arm,  while  with  the  other  he  guided 
his  course  in  the  water.  In  tliis  way,  he 
reached  the  shore  in  safety,  about  a  hun- 
dred yards  below  the  bridge,  by  which 
means  he  avoided  his  pursuers,  who,  as 
has  just  been  stated,  searched  for  him 
above  it. 

After  debating  with  himself  for  a  short 
time  as  to  what  course  he  should  pursue, 
he  decided  upon  conveying  Garnet  to  the 


hall,  where  he  could  procure  restoratives 
and  assistance;  and  though  he  was  fully 
sensible  of  the  danger  of  this  plan,  not 
doubting  the  mansion  would  be  visited  and 
searched  by  his  pursuers  before  morning, 
yet  the  necessity  of  warning  Guy  Favvkes 
outweighed  every  other  consideration.  Ac- 
cordingly, again  shouldering  the  priest, 
who,  though  he  had  regained  his  sensibili- 
ty, was  utterly  unable  to  move,  he  com- 
menced his  toilsome  march;  and  being 
frequently  obliged  to  pause  and  rest  him- 
self, it  was  more  than  an  hour  before  he 
reached  his  destination. 

It  was  just  growing  light  as  he  crossed 
the  drawbridge,  and  seeing  a  horse  tied  to 
a  tree,  and  the  gate  open,  he  began  to  fear 
the  enemy  had  preceded  him.  Full  of  mis- 
giving, belaid  Garnet  upon  a  heap  of  straw 
in  an  outbuilding,  and  entered  the  house. 
He  found  no  one  below,  though  he  glanced 
into  each  room.     lie  then  noiselessly  as- 


GUY    FAWKES. 


77 


cended   the   stairs,  with    the  intention  of  l  more  befitting   an  Alsatian   bull}'  than  a 
proceed inir  to  Guy  Fawkes's  chamber.  gentleman,  I  \vill  readily  give  you   such 

Ashe  Traversed   the  gallery,  he  heard    explanation  of  my  conduct  as  will   fully 


voices  in  one  of  the  chambers,  the  door  of 
which  was  ajar,  and  pausing  to  listen,  dis- 
tinguished the  tones  of  Viviana  Filled 
with  astonishment,  he  was  about  to  enter 
the  room  to  inquire  bj^  what  means  she 
had  reached  the  hall,  when  he  was  arrested 
by  the  voice  of  her  companion.  It  was 
that  of  Humphrey  Chetham.     Maddened 


to  rush  into  the  room  and  stab  his  rival  in 
the  presence  of  his  mistress.  I5ut  he  re- 
strained his  passion  by  a  powerful  effort. 

After  listening  for  a  few  minutes  intent- 
ly to  their  conversation,  he  found  that 
Chetliam  was  taking  leave,  and  creeping 
softly  down  stairs,  stationed  himself  in  the 
hall,  through  which  he  knew  his  rival 
must  necessarily  pass.  Chetham  present- 
ly appeared.  His  manner  was  dejected; 
his  looks  downcast;  and  he  w^ould  have 
passed  Catesby  without  observing  him,  if 
the  latter  had  not  laid  his  hand  upon  his 
shoulder. 

"Mr.  Catesby!"  exclaimed  the  young 
merchant,  starting  as  he  beheld  the  stern 
glance  fixed  upon  him.    "  I  thought " 

"  You  thought  I  was  a  prisoner,  no 
doubt,"  interrupted  Catesby,  bitterly. 
"  But  you  are  mistaken.  I  am  here  to 
confound  you  and  your  juggling  and  treach- 
erous associate." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,"  replied 
Chetham. 

"I  will  soon  make  myself  intelligible," 
retorted  Catesby.  "  Follow  me  to  the 
garden." 

"  I  perceive  your  purpose,  Mr.  Cates- 
by," replied  Chetham,  calmly;  "but  it  is 
no  part  of  my  principles  to  expose  my  life 


content  you,  and  satisfy  you  that  any  sus- 
picions vou  may  entertain  of  me  are  un- 
founded." 

"Coward!"  exclaimed  Catesby, striking 
him.  "  I  want  no  explanation.  Defend 
yourself,  or  I  will  treat  you  with  still 
greater  indignity." 

"Lead  on,   then,"  cried   Chetham,  "I 


by  jealousy,  Catesby's  first  impulse  was  ^  would  have  avoided  the  quarrel  if  1  could 

But  this  outrage  shall  not  pass  unpunish- 
ed." 

As  they  quilted  the  hall,  Viviana  en- 
tered it;  and,  though  she  was  greatly  sur- 
prised by  the  appearance  of  Catesby,  his 
furious  gestures  left  her  in  no  doubt  as  to 
his  purpose.  She  called  to  him  to  stop. 
But  no  attention  was  paid  by  either  party 
to  her  cries. 

On  gaining  a  retired  spot  beneath  the 
trees,  Catesby,  without  giving  his  antago- 
nist time  to  divest  himself  of  the  heavy 
horseman's  cloak  with  which  he  was  in- 
cumbered, and  scarcely  to  draw  his  sword, 
assaulted  him.  The  combat  was  furious 
on  both  sides,  but  it  was  evident  that  the 
young  merchant  was  no  match  for  his  ad- 
versary. He  maintained  his  ground,  how- 
ever, jfor  some  time  with  great  resolution; 
but,  being  hotly  pressed,  in  retreating  to 
avoid  a  thrust,  bis  foot  caught  in  the  long 
grass,  and  he  fell.  Catesby  would  have 
passed  his  sword  through  his  body  if  it 
had  not  been  turned  aside  by  another  wea- 
pon. It  was  that  of  Guy  Fawkes,  w4io, 
followed  by  Martin  Ileydocke,  had  stag- 
gered towards  the  scene  of  strife,  reaching 
it  just  in  time  to  save  the  life  of  Humphrey 
Chetham. 

'  Heaven  be  praised!  I  am  not  too  late! 


to  ruffianly  violence."    If  you  choose  to  lay  !  he  exclaimed.  "  Put  up  your  blade,  CateS' 
aside   this   insolent  demeanor,    which   is  \  by;  or  turn  it  against  me." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 
THE  EXPLANATION. 


Uttering  an  exclamation  of  rage,  Cates- 
by turned  fiercely  upon  Fawkes,  and  for  a 
moment  appeared  disposed  to  accept  his 
invitation  to  continue  the  combat  with  him. 
But  as  he  regarded  the  other's  haggard 
features,  and  perceived  in  them  the  traces 
of  his  recent  struggle  with  death — as  he 
saw  he  was  scarcely  able  to  wield  the 
blade  he  opposed  against  him — his  wrath 
changed  to  compassion,  and  he  sheathed 
his  sword.  By  tiiis  time,  Humphrey 
Chetham  had  sprung  to  his  feet,  and  |)ick- 
ing  up  his  fallen  weapon,  stood  on  his  de- 


fence. But  finding  that  Catesby  medita- 
ted no  further  hostilities,  he  returned  it  to 
the  scabbard. 

"  I  owe  my  life  to  you,"  he  said  to  Guy 
Fawkes,  in  atone  of  deep  gratitude. 

"You  owe  it  to  Viviana  RadclitVe,  not 
to  me,"  returned  Fawkes  feebly,  and 
leaning  upon  liis  sword  for  support. — 
"  Had  it  not  been  for  her  cries,  1  should 
have  known  nothing  of  this  quarrel.  And 
I  would  now  gladly  learn  what  has  oc- 
casioned it?" 

"  And  I,"  added  Chetham;  "  for  I  am 


78 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


as  ignorant  as  yourself  how  I  have  offend- 
ed Mr.  CaU'sby." 

"I  will  tell  you,  then,"  returned  Cates- 
by,  sternly.  "  You  were  a  party  to  the 
snare  set  for  us  by  Doctor  Dee,  from 
which  1  narrowly  escaped  with  life,  and 
Father  Garnet  at  the  expense  of  a  broken 
limb." 

"  Is  Garnet  hurt?"  demanded  Fawkes, 
anxiously. 

*'  Grievously,"  replied  Catesby;  "  but 
he  is  oat  of  the  reach  of  his  enemies,  of 
whom,"  he  added,  pointing  to  Chetham, 
'•  one  of  the  most  malignant  and  treache- 
rous now  stands  before  you." 

"  1  am  quite  in  the  dark  as  to  what  has 
happened,"  observed  Fawkes,  "  having 
onl}^  a  few  minutes  ago  been  roused  from 
JTiy  slumbers  by  the  shrieks  of  Viviana, 
who  entreated  me  to  come  and  separate 
you.  But  I  cannot  believe  Humphrey 
Chetham  so  treacherous  as  you  represent 
him." 

"So  far  from  having  any  enmity  to- 
wards Father  Garnet,"  observed  Chetham, 
"  my  anxious  desire  was  to  preserve  him; 
and  with  that  view,  I  was  repairing  to 
Doctor  Dee,  when  I  encountered  Mr. 
Catesby  in  the  hall,  and,  before  I  could 
offer  any  explanation,  I  was  forced  by  his 
violence  and  insults  into  this  combat." 

"Is  this  the  truth,  Catesby!"  asked 
Fawkes. 

"  Something  near  it,"  rejoined  the  lat- 
ter; "but  perhaps  Mr.  Chetham  will  like- 
wise inform  you  by  whose  agericy  Viviana 
was  transported  hither  from  the  CoUeo^iate 
Church]" 

"  That  inquiry  ought  rather  to  be  made 
of  the  lady  herself,  sir,"  returned  Chetham, 
coldly.  "  But,  as  I  am  assured  she  would 
have  no  objection  to  my  answering  it,  I 
shall  not  hesitate  to  do  so.  She  was  con- 
veyed hither  by  Kelley  and  an  assistant, 
who  departed  as  soon  as  their  task  was 
completed." 

"  Indeed!"  exclaimed  Catesby  between 
his  ground  teeth.  "  But  how  chanced  it. 
sir,  that  you  arrived  here  so  opportunely?" 

"I  might  well  refuse  to  answer  a  ques- 
tion thus  insolently  put,"  rejoined  Chet- 
ham. "  But  to  prevent  further  misunder- 
standing, I  will  tell  you,  that  I  came  by 
Viviana's  invitation  at  midnight;  and,  as- 
certaining from  my  servant,  Martm  Hey- 
docke,  whom  I  found  watching  by  the 
couch  of  Guy  Fawkes,  the  melancholy 
business  on  which  she  was  engaged,  I  de- 
termined to  await  her  return,  which  oc- 
curred about  an  liour  afterwards,  in  the 
manner  I  have  just  related." 

"  I  was  in  the  court-yard  when  Miss 
Radcliffe  was  brought  back,"  interposed 
Martin  Ileydocke,  who  was  standing  at  a 
resptictful  distance  from  the  group;  "  and, 


after  Kelley  had  delivered  her  to  my  charge, 
I  heard  him  observe  in  an  under  tone  to 
his  companion,  '  Let  us  ride  back  as  fast 
as  we  can,  and  see  w  hat  they  have  done 
with  the  prisoners.'  " 

"  Tlicy  made  sure  of  their  prey  before 
it  was  captured,"  observed  Catesby,  bit- 
terly. "  But  we  have  disappointed  them. 
Dee  and  his  associate  may  yet  have  rea- 
son to  repent  their  perfidy." 

"  You  will  do  well  not  to  put  yourself 
again  in  their  power,"  observed  Humphrey 
Chetham.  "  If  you  will  be  counselled  by 
me,  you  and  Guy  Fawkes  will  seek  safety 
in  instant  flight." 

"  And  leave  you  with  Viviana?"  rejoin- 
ed Catesby,  sarcastically. 

"  She  is  in  no  present  danger,"  replied 
Chetham.  "  But,  if  it  is  thought  fitting, 
or  desirable,  I  will  remain  with  her." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it,"  returned  Catesby, 
with  a  sneer;  "  but  it  is  neither  fitting, 
nor  desirable.  And,  hark  ye,  young  sir, 
if  you  have  indulged  any  expectations 
with  regard  to  Viviana  Radcliffe,  it  is  time 
you  were  undeceived.  She  will  never 
wed  one  of  your  degree,  nor  of  your  faith," 

"I  have  her  own  assurance  she  will 
never  wed  at  all,"  replied  Chetham,  in  aa 
offended  tone.  "  But  had  she  not  crushed 
my  hopes  by  declaring  she  was  vowed  to 
a  convent,  no  menaces  of  yours,  who  have 
neither  right  nor  title  thus  to  interfere, 
should  induce  me  to  desist  from  my  suit." 

"  Either  resign  all  pretensions  to  her 
hand,  or  prepare  to  renew  the  combat," 
cried  Catesby,  fiercely, 

"No  more  of  this,"  interposed  Guy 
Fawkes.  "Let  us  return  to  the  house, 
and  adjust  our  differences  there." 

"  I  have  no  further  business  here,"  ob- 
served Humphrey  Chetham.  "Having 
taken  leave  of  Viviana,"  he  added  with 
much  emotion,  "I  do  not  desire  to  meet 
her  again." 

"  It  is  well,  sir,"  rejoined  Catesby: 
"yet  stay! — you  mean  us  no  treachery?" 

"If  you  suspect  me  I  will  remain,"  re- 
plied Humphrey  Chetham. 

"  On  no  account,"  said  Guy  Fawkes. 
"  I  will  answer  for  him  with  my  life." 

"  Perhaps,  when  I  tell  you  1  have  pro- 
cured the  liberation  of  Father  Oldcorne," 
returned  Chetham,  "and  have  placed  him 
in  security  in  Ordsall  Cave,  you  will  ad- 
mit that  you  have  done  me  wrong." 

"  I  have  been  greatly  mistaken  in  you, 
sir,  I  must  own,"  said  Catesby,  advancing 
towards  him,  and  extending  his  hand. 
But  Humphrey  Clietham  folded  his  arms 
upon  his  breast,  and  bowing  coldly,  with- 
drew. He  was  followed  by  Martin  Hey- 
docke,  and  presently  afterwards  the  tramp 
of  his  horse's  feet  was  heard  crossing  the 
drawbridge. 


GUY    FAWKES. 


79 


CHAPTER   XIX. 


THE  DISCOVERY. 


Texderixg  his  arm  to  Fawkos,  who 
was  almost  too  feeble  to  walk  unsupport- 
ed, Catesby  led  him  slowly  to  the  hall. 
On  reachin^T  it,  they  met  Viviana,  in  a 
state  bordering  upon  distraction,  but  her 
distress  was  speedily  relieved  by  their 
assurances  that  the  young  merchant  had 
departed  unhurt — a  statement  immediately 
afterwards  confirmed  by  the  entrance  of 
Martin  Heydocke,  charged  with  a  mes- 
sage from  his  master  to  her.  Without 
communicating  his  design  to  the  others, 
and,  indeed,  almost  shunning  Viviana, 
Catesby  proceeded  to  the  outbuilding 
where  he  had  deposited  Garnet.  He  found 
him  in  great  pain,  and  praying  fervently 
to  be  released  from  his  suffering. 

"Do  not  despair,  father,"  said  Catesby, 
in  as  cheerful  a  tone  as  he  could  assume, 
"  the  worst  is  over.  Viviana  is  in  safety. 
Father  Oldcorne  has  escaped,  and  is  with- 
in a  short  distance  of  us,  and  Guy  Fawkes 
is  fully  able  toundertake  a  journey  of  any 
distance.  You  are  our  sole  concern.  But 
I  am  assured,  if  j^ou  will  allow  me  to  exer- 
cise the  slight  surgical  skill  I  possess  in 
your  behalf,  that  you  will  be  able  to  ac- 
company us." 

"Do  with  me  what  you  please,  my 
son,"  groaned  Garnet.  "But  if  my  case 
is  as  desperate  as  I  believe  it,  1  entreat 
you  not  to  bestow  any  further  care  upon 
me,  and,  above  all,  not  to  expose  yourself 
to  risk  on  my  account.  Our  enemies  are 
sure  to  pursue  us — and  what  matter  if  I 
am  captured]  They  will  wreak  their  ven- 
geance on  a  worthless  carcase — for  such  I 
shall  soon  be.  But  it  would  double  the 
anguish  I  now  endure,  if  you  and  Fawkes 
were  to  fall  into  their  hands.  Go,  then, 
and  leave  me  here  to  perish.  My  dying 
moments  will  be  cheered  by  the  conviction 
thnt  the  great  enterprise — for  which  alone 
I  desire  to  live — will  not  be  unaccom- 
plished." 

"There  is  no  need  to  leave  you,  father," 
replied  Catesby,  "  nor  shall  any  consider- 
ation induce  me  to  do  so,  till  I  have  ren- 
dered you  every  aid  that  circumstances 
will  permit." 

"My  son,"  replied  Garnet,  faintly,  "the 
most  efiicacious  balm  you  can  apply  will 
be  the  certainty  that  you  are  in  safety. 
You  say  Viviana  is  here.  Fly  with 
Fawkes  and  leave  me  to  her  care." 

"She  must  go  with  us,"  observed 
Catesby,  uneasily. 

"  Not  so,  my  son,"  returned  Garnet; 
"her  presence  will   only  endanger   you. 


She  must  nnf  go.     And  you  must  abandon 
all  hopes  of  an  union  with  her." 

"  I  would  as  soon  abandon  the  great  de- 
sign itself,"  returned  Catesby  moodily. 

"  If  you  persist  in  this,  you  will  ruin, 
it,"  rejoined  Garnet.  "Think  of  her  no 
more.  Bend  your  thoughts  exclusively 
on  the  one  grand  object,  and  be  what  you 
are  chosen  to  be,  the  defender  and  deliverer 
of  our  holy  Church." 

"I  would  gladly  act  as  you  advise  me, 
father,"  replied  Catesby;  "  but  I  am  spell- 
bound by  this  maiden." 

"This  is  idle  from  you,  my  son,"  re- 
plied Garnet,  reproachfully.  "  Separate 
yourself  from  her,  and  you  will  soon  re- 
gain your  former  mastery  over  yourself." 

"  Well,  well,  father,"  rejoined  Catesby, 
"the  effort,  at  least,  shall  be  made.  But 
her  large  possessions,  which  would  be  sa 
useful  to  our  cause,  and  which  if  I  wedded 
her  would  be  wholly  devoted  to  it— think 
of  what  we  lose,  father." 

"  I  have  thought  of  it,  my  son,"  replied 
Garnet;  "  but  the  consideration  does  not 
alter  my  opinion.  And  if  I  possess  any 
authority  over  you,  I  strictly  enjoin  you 
not  to  proceed  farther  in  the  matter.  Vivi- 
ana never  can  be  yours." 

"  She  shall  be,  nevertheless,"  muttered 
Catesby,  "and  before  many  hours  have 
elapsed— if  not  by  her  own  free  will,  by 
force.  I  have  ever  shown  myself  obedient 
to  your  commands,  father,'"  he  added 
aloud,  "and  I  shall  not  transgress  them 
now." 

"  Heaven  keep  you  in  this  disposition, 
my  dear  son!"  exclaimed  Garnet.  "And 
let  me  recommend  you  to  remove  yourself 
as  soon  as  possible  out  of  the  way  of 
temptation." 

Catesby  muttered  an  affirmative,  and 
taking  Garnet  in  his  arms,  conveyed  him 
carefully  to  his  own  chamber,  and  placing 
him  on  a  couch,  examined  his  wounds, 
which  wore  not  so  serious  as  either  he  or 
the  sufferer  had  imagined,  and  with  no 
despicable  skill— for  the  experiences  of  a 
soldier's  life  had  given  him  some  practice 
—bandaged  his  broken  arm,  and  fomented 
his  bruises. 

This  done,  Garnet  felt  so  much  easier, 
that  he  entreated  Catesby  to  send  Viviana 
to  him,  and  to  make  preparations  for  his 
own  immediate  departure.  Feigning  ac- 
quiescence, Catesby  quitted  the  room",  but 
he  had  no  intention  of  comjilying  with  the 
request.  Not  a  moment  he  felt  must  he 
lost  if  he  would  execute  his  dark  design, 


80 


GUY    FAWKES. 


and,  after  revolving  many  wild  expedients, 
an  idea  occurred  to  hiin.  It  was  to  lure 
Viviana  to  the  cave  where  Father  Old- 
come  was  concealed;  and  he  knew  enough 
of  the  pliant  disposition  of  the  latter  to 
be  certain  he  would  assent  to  his  scheme. 
No  sooner  did  this  plan  occur  to  him 
than  he  hurried  to  the  cell,  and  found  the 
priest,  as  Chetham  had  stated.  As  he  had 
foreseen,  it  required  little  persuasion  to 
induce  Oldcorne  to  lend  his  assistance  to 
the  forced  marriage,  and  he  only  feared 
the  decided  oi)position  they  should  en- 
counter from  Viviana. 

"  Fear  nothing,  then,  father,"  said 
Catesby;  "  in  this  solitary  spot  no  one 
will  hear  her  cries.  Whatever  resistance 
she  mny  make,  perform  the  ceremony,  and 
leave  the  consequences  to  me." 

"The  plan  is  desperate,  my  son,"  re- 
turned Oldcorne,  "but  so  are  our  fortunes. 
And,  as  Viviana  will  not  hear  reason,  we 
have  no  alternative.  You  swear  that  if 
you  are  once  wedded  to  her,  all  her  pos- 
sessions shall  be  devoted  to  the  further- 
ance of  the  great  cause." 

"All,  father — I  swear  it,"  rejoined 
Catesby,  fervently. 

"Enough,"  replied  Oldcorne.  "The 
sooner  it  is  done,  the  better." 

It  was  then  agreed  between  them  that 
the  plan  least  likely  to  excite  suspicion 
would  be  for  Oldcorne  to  proceed  to  the 
hall,  and  under  some  plea  prevail  upon 
Viviana  to  return  with  him  to  the  cave. 
Acting  upon  this  arrangement,  they  left 
the  cell  together,  shaping  their  course 
under  the  trees  to  avoid  observation;  and 
while  Oldcorne  repaired  to  the  hall,  Cates- 
by proceeded  to  the  stable,  and  saddling 
the  only  steed  left,  rode  back  to  the  cave, 
and  concealing  the  animal  behind  the 
brushwood,  entered  the  excavation.  It 
was  long  before  the  others  arrived;  and  as 
in  his  present  feverish  state  of  mind  mo- 
ments appeared  ages,  the  suspense  was 
almost  intolerable.  At  length  he  heard 
footsteps  approaching,  and,  with  a  beating 
heart,  distinguished  the  voice  of  Viviana. 
The  place  was  buried  in  profound  dark- 
ness; but  Oldcorne  struck  a  light,  and  set 
lire  to  a  candle  in  a  lantern.  The  feeble 
glimmer  difl'used  by  this  light  was  not 
sufficient  to  penetrate  the  recesses  of  the 
cavern:  and  Catesby,  who  stood  at  the 
farther  extremity,  was  completely  shel- 
tered from  observation. 

"  And  now,  father,"  observed  Viviana, 
seating  herself,  with  her  back  towards 
Catesby,  upon  the  stone  bench  once  used 
by  the  unfortunate  prophetess,  "  I  would 
learn  the  communication  you  desire  to 
make  to  me.  It  must  be  something  of 
importance  since  you  would  not  disclose 
it  at  the  hall." 


"  It  is,  daughter,"  replied  Oldcorne, 
who  could  scarcely  conceal  his  embarrass- 
ment. "  I  have  brought  you  hither,  where 
I  am  sure  we  shall  be  uninterrupted,  to 
confer  with  you  on  a  subject  nearest  my 
heart.  Your  lamented  father  being  taken 
from  us,  I,  as  his  spiritual  adviser,  aware 
of  his  secret  wishes  and  intentions,  con- 
ceive myself  entitled  to  assume  his  place." 

"  I  consider  you  in  the  light  of  a  father, 
dear  sir,"  replied  Viviana,  "  and  will  fol- 
low your  advice  as  implicitly  as  I  would 
that  of  him  I  have  lost." 

"Since  I  find  you  so  tractable,  child," 
returned  Oldcorne,  reassured  by  her  man- 
ner, "I  will  no  longer  hesitate  to  declare 
the  motive  I  had  in  bringing  you  hither. 
You  will  recollect  that  I  have  of  late 
strongly  opposed  your  intention  of  retir- 
ing to  a  convent." 

"I  know  it,  father,"  interrupted  Vivi- 
ana, "  but " 


'Hear  me  out,"  continued  Oldcorne; 
"recent  events  have  strengthened  my  dis- 
approval of  the  step.  You  are  now  call- 
ed upon  to  active  duties,  and  must  take 
your  share  in  the  business  of  life— must 
struggle  and  suffer  like  others — and  not 
shrink  from  the  burthen  imposed  upon  you 
by  Heaven." 

"  I  do  not  shrink  from  it,  father,"  re- 
plied Viviana;  "and  if  I  were  equal  to 
the  active  life  you  propose,  I  would  not 
hesitate  to  embrace  it,  but  I  feel  I  should 
sink  under  it." 

"Not  if  you  had  one  near  you  who. 
could  afford  you  that  support  which  feeble 
woman  ever  requires,"  returned  Oldcorne. 

"  What  mean  you,  father"?"  inquired 
Viviana,  fixing  her  dark  eyes  full  upon 
him. 

"That  you  must  marry,  daughter,"  re- 
turned Oldcorne,  "  unite  yourself  to  some 
worthy  man,  who  will  be  to  you  what  I 
have  described." 

"  And,  was  it  to  tell  me  this  that  you 
brought  me  here?"  asked  Viviana,  in  a 
slightly  offended  tone. 

"  It  was,  daughter,"  replied  Oldcorne; 
"  but  I  have  not  yet  done.  It  is  not  only 
needful  you  should  marry,  but  your  choice 
must  be  such  as  I,  who  represent  your  fa- 
ther, and  have  your  welfare  thoroughly  at 
heart,  can  approve." 

"You  can  find  me  a  husband,  I  doubt 
noti"  remarked  Viviana,  coldly. 

"  I  have  already  found  one,"  returned 
Oldcorne;  "a  gentleman  suitable  to  you 
in  rank,  religion,  years — for  your  husband 
should  be  older  than  yourself,  Viviana." 

"  I  will  not  affect  to  misunderstand 
you,  father,"  she  replied;  "you  mean  Mr. 
Catesby." 

"  You  have  guessed  aright,  dear  daugh- 
ter," rejoined  Oldcorne. 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


81 


"  I  thoucrht  I  had  made  mj'self  suffi- 
ciently intelligible  on  this  point  before, 
father,"  she  returned. 

"True," replied  Oldcorne;  "but you  are 
no  lonn-er,  as  I  have  just  labored  to  con- 
vince you,  in  the  same  position  you  were 
when  the  subject  was  formerly  dis- 
cussed." 

"  'I'o  prevent  further  misunderstanding-, 
father,"  said  Viviana,  "  I  now  tell  you, 
that  in  whatever  position  I  may  be  placed, 
I  will  never,  under  any  circumstances, 
wed  Mr.  Catesby." 

"  What  are  your  objections  to  him, 
daughter?"  asked  Oldcorne. 

"  They  are  numberless,"  replied  Vivi- 
ana; "  but  it  is  useless  to  particularise 
them.  1  must  pray  you  to  change  the 
conversation,  or  you  will  compel  me  to 
quit  you." 

"  Nay,  daughter,  if  you  thus  obstinately 
shut  }'our  ears  to  reason,  I  must  use  very 
different  language  towards  you.  Armed 
with  parental  authority,  I  shall  exact  obe- 
dience to  my  commands." 

"I  cannot  obey  you,  father,"  replied 
Viviana,  bursting  into  tears — "  indeed,  in- 
deed 1  cannot.  My  heart,  I  have  already 
told  you,  is  another's." 

"  Me  who  has  robbed  you  of  it  is  a  he- 
retic," rejoined  Oldcorne,  sternly,  "  and 
therefore  your  union  with  him  is  out  of  the 
question.  Promise  me  you  will  wed  Mr. 
Catesby,  or,  in  the  name  of  your  dead  fa- 
ther I  will  invoke  a  curse  upon  your  head. 
Promise  me,  I  say." 

"  Never,"  replied  V^iviana,  rising.  "  My 
father  would  never  have  enforced  my  com- 
pliance, and  I  dread  no  curse  thus  impi- 
ously pronounced.  You  are  overstepping 
the  bounds  of  your  priestly  office,  sir. 
Farewell." 

As  she  moved  to  depart,  a  strong  grasp 
was  laid  on  her  arm,  and  turning,  she  be- 
held Catesby. 

"  You  here,  sirl"  she  cried,  in  great 
alarm. 

"  Ay,"  replied  Catesby.  "  At  last  you 
are  in  my  power,  Viviana." 

"  I  would  fam  misunderstand  you,  sir," 
said  Viviana,  trembling;  "but  your  looks 
terrify  me.     You  mean  no  violence." 

"  1  mean  that  Father  Oldcorne  shall 
wed  us — and  that  without  a  moment's  de- 
lay," replied  Catesby,  sternly. 

"Monster!"  shrieked  Viviana,  "you 
will  not— dare  not  commit  this  foul  offence. 
And  if  you  dare.  Father  Oldcorne  will  not 
assist  you.  Aii!  what  means  that  sign? 
I  cannot  be  mistaken  in  you,  father?  You 
cannot  be  acting  in  concert  with  this  wick- 
ed man?  fc^ave  me  from  him! — save 
me!" 

But  the  priest  kept  aloof,  and  taking  a 
missal  from  his  vest,  hastily  turned  over 

8 


the  leaves.     Viviana  saw  that  her  appeal 
to  him  was  in  vain. 

"  Let  me  go!"  she  shrieked,  struggling 
with  Catesby.  "  You  cannot  force  me 
to  wed  you  whether  I  will  or  not;  and  I 
will  die  rather  than  consent.  Let  me  go, 
I  say!  Help! — help!"  and  she  made  the 
cavern  ring  with  her  screams. 

"  Heed  her  not,  father,"  shouted  Cates- 
by, who  still  held  her  fast,  "  but  proceed 
with  the  ceremony," 

Oldcorne,  however,  appeared  irresolute, 
and  Viviana  perceiving  it,  redoubled  her 
cries. 

"This  will  be  no  marriage,  father,"  she 
said,  "  even  if  you  proceed  with  it.  I  will 
protest  against  it  to  all  the  world,  and  you 
will  be  deprived  of  your  priestly  office  for 
your  share  in  so  infamous  a  transaction." 

"  Y'ou  will  think  otherwise  anon,  daugh- 
ter," replied  Oldcorne,  advancing  towards 
them  with  the  missal  in  his  hand. 

"If  it  be  no  marriage,"  observed  Cates- 
by, significantly,  "  the  time  will  come 
when  you  may  desire  to  have  the  cere- 
mony repeated." 

"  Mr.  Catesby,"  cried  Viviana,  altering 
her  manner,  as  if  she  had  taken  a  sudden 
resolution,  "one  word  before  you  proceed 
with  your  atrocious  purpose,  which  must 
end  in  misery  to  us  all.  There  are  rea- 
sons why  you  can  never  wed  me." 

"  Ha!"  exclaimed  Catesby,  starting. 

"Is  it  so,  my  son?"  asked  Oldcorne, 
uneasily. 

"  Pshaw!"  exclaimed  Catesby.  "  She 
knows  not  what  she  says.  Proceed,  fa- 
ther." 

"  I  have  proofs  that  will  confound  you," 
cried  Viviana,  breaking  from  him.  And 
darting  towards  the  light,  she  took  from 
her  bosom  the  packet  given  her  by  Guy 
Fawkes,  and  tore  it  open.  A  letter  was 
within  it,  and  a  miniature. 

Opening  the  letter,  she  cast  her  eye  ra- 
pidly over  its  contents,  and  then  looking- 
up,  exclaimed  in  accents  of  delirious  joy, 
"Saved!  saved!  Father  Oldcorne,  this 
man  is  married  already!" 

Catesby,  who  had  watched  her  pro- 
ceedings in  silent  astonishment,  and  was 
now  advancing  towards  her,  recoiled  as  if 
a  thunderbolt  had  fallen  at  his  feet. 

"  Can  this  be  true?"  cried  the  priest,  in 
astonishment. 

"  Let  your  own  eyes  convince  you,"  re- 
joined Viviana,  handing  him  the  letter. 

"  I  am  satisfied,"  said  Oldcorne,  after 
he  had  glanced  at  it.  "  We  have  both  been 
spared  the  commission  of  a  great  crime. 
Mr.  Catesby,  it  appears  from  this  letter 
that  you  have  a  wife  living  in  Spain." 

"  It  is  useless  to  deny  it,"  replied  Cates- 
by. "But,  as  you  were  ignorant  of  the 
matter,  the   ofleiice  (if  any)  would  have 


82 


GUY    FAWKES. 


lain  wholly  at  my  door;  nor  should  I  have 
repented  of  it,  if  it  liad  enabled  me  lo 
achieve  the  object  1  have  in  view." 

"Thank  heaven  it  has  Gjone  no  farther!" 
exclaimed  Oldcorne.  "  Daug-hter,  I  hum- 
bly entreat  your  forgiveness." 

"  How  came  that  packet  into  your  pos- 
session?" demanded  Caicsby  fiercely  of 
Viviana. 

"It  was  given  me  by  Guy  Fawkes," 
she  replied. 

"  Guy  Fawkes!"  exclaimed  Catesby. 
"Has  he  betrayed  his  friend?" 

"He  has  proved  himself  your  best 
friend,  by  preventing'  you  from  commit- 
ting a  crime,  which  would  have  entailed 
wretchedness  on  yourself  and  me,"  re- 
turned Viviana. 

"  I  have  done  with  him,  and  with  all  of 
you,"  cried  Catesby,  with  a  fierce  glance 


at  Oldcorne.  "Henceforth,  pursue  your 
projects  alone.  You  shall  have  no  furtlier 
assistance  from  me.  I  will  serve  the 
Spaniard.  Englishmen  are  not  to  be 
trusted." 

So  saying,  he  rushed  out  of  the  cavern, 
and  seeking  his  horse,  mounted  him,  and 
rode  olTat  full  speed. 

"  How  shall  I  obtain  your  forgiveness 
for  my  conduct  in  this  culpable  alTair,  dear 
daughter]"  said  Oldcorne,  with  an  implor- 
ing look  at  Viviana. 

"  By  joining  me  in  thanksgivings  to  the 
Virgin  for  my  deliverance,"  replied  Vivi- 
ana, prostrating  herself  before  the  stone 
cross. 

Oldcorne  knelt  beside  her,  and  they 
continued  for  some  time  in  earnest  prayer. 
They  then  arose,  and  quitting  the  cave, 
proceeded  to  the  hall. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


THE  DEPARTURE  FROM  THE  HALL. 


Guy  Fawkes  was  as  much  surprised  to  ' 
hear  of  the  sudden  departure  of  Catesby 
as  he  was  concerned  at  the  cause;  but  he 
still  thought  it  probable  he  would  return. 
In  this  expectation,  however,  he  was  dis- 
appointed. The  day  wore  on,  and  no  one 
came.  The  uncertainty  in  which  Fawkes 
was  kept,  added  to  his  unwillingness  to 
leave  Garnet,  still  detained  him,  in  spite 
of  the  risk  he  ran,  at  the  hall;  and  it  was 
only  when  urged  by  Viviana  that  he  began 
seriously  to  reflect  whither  he  should  bend 
his  steps.  Towards  evening.  Garnet  was 
so  much  better,  that  he  was  able  to  sit  up, 
and  he  passed  some  hours  in  conference 
with  Oldcorne. 

"  If  I  do  not  suffer  a  relapse,"  he  ob- 
served to  the  latter,  "  I  will  set  out  with 
Guy  Fawkes  to-morrow,  and  we  will  pro- 
ceed by  easy  stages  to  London." 

"  I  cannot  but  approve  your  resolution,"  ' 
returned  Oldcorne;  "  for  though  so  long  a 
journey  may  be  inconvenient,  and  retard 
your  recovery,  yet  ever}'  hour  you  remain 
here  is  fraught  with  additional  peril.  I 
will  accompany  you.  We  shall  both  be 
safer  in  the  capital;  and  perhaps  Viviana, 
now  she  will  be  no  longer  exposed  to  the 
persecutions  of  Catesby,  will  form  one  of 
the  party." 

"  I  should  not  wonder,"  replied  Garnet. 
"I  shall  be  deeply  concerned  if  Catesby 
has  really  abandoned  the  enterprise.  But 
I  cannot  think  it.  1  did  all  I  could  to  dis- 
suade him  from  prosecuting  this  union, 
knowing  how  hopeless  it  was,  and  little 
thinking  he  would  be  rash  enough  to  seek 


to  accomplish  it  by  force,  or  that  he  would 
find  an  assistant  in  you." 

"  Say  no  more  about  it,  father,  I  entreat 
you,"  rejoined  Oldcorne.  "The  scheme 
failed,  as  it  deserved  to  do;  and  1  sincerely 
repent  the  share  I  was  induced  by  Cates- 
by's  artful  representations  to  take  in  it.  If 
we  have  lost  our  leader,  we  have  still  Giiy 
Fawkes,  who  is  a  host  in  himself,  and  as 
true  as  the  steel  that  hangs  by  his  side." 

"  He  is,"  replied  Garnet;  "  but  we  can- 
not spare  Catesby.  With  many  faults,  he 
has  one  redeeming  quality,  courage.  I 
am  not  sorry  he  has  been  thwarted  in  his 
present  scheme,  as  if  he  returns  to  us,  as 
I  donijt  not  he  will,  it  will  fix  his  mind 
steadily  on  the  one  object,  which  should 
be  ever  beibre  it.  Give  me  your  arm, 
father.  .  I  am  glad  to  find  I  can  walk, 
though  feebly.  That  is  well,"  he  added, 
as  they  emerged  upon  the  gallery;  "I  shall 
be  able  to  reach  Viviana's  chamber  with- 
out further  assistance.  Do  you  descend, 
and  see  that  Martin  Heydocke  is  on  the 
watch." 

In  obedience  to  the  injunctions  of  his 
superior,  Oldcorne  went  in  search  of  Mar- 
tin Heydocke,  who  had  been  stationed  in 
the  court-yard  to  give  timely  notice  of  any 
hostile  approach;  but,  not  finding  hira 
there,  he  proceeded  towards  the  draw- 
bridge. Garnet,  meanwhile,  had  reached 
the  door  of  Viviana's  chamber,  which  was 
slightly  ajar,  and  he  was  about  to  pass 
through  it,  when  he  perceived  that  she 
was  on  her  knees  before  Guy  Fawkes, 
whom  she  was  addressing  in  the  most 


GUY    F  A  W  K  E  S, 


83 


passionate  terms.  The  latter  was  seated 
at  a  table,  with  his  head  upon  his  hand,  in 
a  thou^rhtful  posture.  Amazed  at  this 
sight,  and  curious  to  hear  what  Viviana 
could  be  saying,  Garnet  drew  back  to 
listen. 

"  When  you  quit  this  house,"  were  the 
first  words  that  cauglit  the  listener's  atten- 
tion, "  we  shall  never  meet  again;  and,  oh! 
let  me  have  the  consolation  of  thinking 
tliat,  in  return  for  the  devoted  attachment 
you  have  shown  me,  and  the  dangers 
from  which  you  have  preserved  me,  1,  in 
return,  have  preserved  you  from  one  equal- 
ly imminent.  Catesby,  from  whatever 
motive,  has  abandoned  the  conspiracy. 
Do  you  act  likewise,  and  the  whole  dread- 
ful scheme  will  fall  to  the  ground." 

"  Catesby  cannot  abandon  it,"  replied 
Fawkes.  "He  is  bound  by  ties  that  no 
human  power  can  sunder.  And,  however 
he  may  estrange  himself  from  us  now, 
when  the  time  for  action  arrives,  rest 
assured  he  will  not  be  absent." 

"It  may  be  so,"  replied  Viviana;  "but 
I  deny  that  the  oath  either  he  or  you  have 
taken  is  binding.  The  deed  you  have 
sworn  to  do  is  evil,  and  no  vow,  however 
solemnly  pronounced,  can  compel  you  to 
commit  crime.  Avoid  this  sin — avoid  fur- 
ther connection  with  those  who  would 
work  your  undoing,  and  do  not  stain  your 
soul  with  guilt  from  which  it  will  never 
be  cleansed." 

"You  seek  in  vain  to  move  me,"  re- 
plied Guy  Fawkes,  firmly.  "  My  purpose 
is  unalterable.  The  tempest  that  clears 
away  the  pestilence  destroys  many  inno- 
cent lives,  but  it  is  not  the  less  wholesome 
on  that  account.  Our  unliappy  land  is 
choked  with  the  pestilence  of  heresy,  and 
must  be  freed  from  it,  cost  what  it  will, 
and  suffer  who  may.  The  wrongs  of  the 
English  Catholics  imperatively  demand 
redress;  and,  since  it  is  denied  us,  we 
must  take  it.  Oppression  can  go  no  further; 
nor  endurance  hold  out  longer.  If  this 
blow  be  not  struck  we  shall  have  no  longer 
a  religion.  And  how  comes  it,  Viviana, 
that  you,  a  zealous  Catholic,  whose  father 
perished  by  these  very  oppressors,  and 
who  are  yourself  in  danger  from  them,  can 
seek  to  turn  me  from  my  purpose"?" 

"  Because  1  know  it  is  wrongful,"  re- 
plied Viviana.  "  I  have  no  desire  to 
avenge  the  death  of  my  slaughtered  father, 
still  less  to  see  our  religion  furthered  by 
the  dreadful  means  you  propose.  In  his 
own  due  season,  the  Lord  will  redress  our 
wronjjs." 

"  The  Lord  has  appointed  me  one  of  the 
ministers  of  his  vengeance,"  cried  Fawkes, 
in  a  tone  of  enthusiasm. 

"  Do  not  deceive  yourself,"  rcliirned 
Viviana,  "  it  is  not  by  heaven,  but  by  the 


powers  of  darkness,  that  you  are  incited  to 
this  deed.  Do  not  persevere  in  this  fatal 
course,"  she  continued,  clasping  her  hands 
together,  and  gazing  imploringly  in  his 
face,  "do  not — do  not!" 

Guy  Fawkes  continued  in  the  same  at- 
titude as  bel'ore,  with  his  gaze  turned  up- 
wards, and  apparently  lost  in  thought. 

"  Have  I  no  power  to  move  you]"  cried 
Viviana,  her  eyes  streaming  with  tears, 

"  None  whatever,"  replied  Guy  Fawkes, 
firmly. 

"  Then  you  are  lost,"  she  rejoined. 

"  If  it  is  heaven's  will,  I  am,"  said 
Fawkes;  "but  at  least  I  believe  that  I  am 
acting  rightly." 

"  And  rest  assured  you  are  so,  my  son," 
cried  Garnet,  throwing  open  the  door,  and 
stepping  into  the  room.  "  I  have  over- 
heard your  conversation,  and  I  applaud 
your  resolution." 

"  You  need  have  no  fears  of  me,  father," 
replied  Fawkes,  "  I  do  not  lightly  under- 
take a  project;  but  once  embarked  in  it, 
nothing  can  turn  me  aside." 

"  In  this  case  your  determination  is 
wisely  formed,  my  son,"  said  Garnet; 
"and  if  Viviana  \\ill  ever  give  me  an  op- 
portunity offully  discussing  the  matter,  lam 
sure  I  can  satisfy  her  you  are  in  the  right." 

"  I  will  discuss  it  with  you  whenever 
you  think  proper,"  she  replied.  "  But  no 
arguments  will  ever  convince  me  that  your 
project  is  approved  by  heaven." 

"  Let  it  pass  now,  daughter,"  rejoined 
Garnet;  "  enough  has  been  said  on  the 
subject.  I  came  hither  to  tell  Guy  Fawkes, 
that  if  our  enemies  permit  us  to  pass  the 
night  without  molestation,  (as  heaven  grant 
they  may!)  I  think  I  shall  be  strong  enough 
to  set  out  with  him  to-morrow,  when  I 
propose  that  we  should  journey  together 
to  London." 

"  Agreed,"  replied  Fawkes*- 

"  Father  Oldcorne  will  accompany  us," 
pursued  Garnet. 

"And  I,  too,  .will  go  with  you,  if  you 
will  permit  me,"  said  Viviana.  "  I  can- 
not remain  here,  and  I  have  no  further 
fears  of  Mr.  Catesby.  Doctor  Dee  told 
me  that  my  future  fate  was  strangely  mixed 
up  with  that  of  Guy  Fawkes.  I  know  not 
how  that  may  be,  but  I  will  not  abandon 
him  while  there  is  a  hope  to  cling  to." 

"  Viviana  RadclilTc,"  rejoined  Guy 
Fawkes,  coldly,  "  deeply  as  1  feel  the  in- 
terest you  take  in  me,  1  think  it  right  to 
tell  you  that  no  ellbrts  you  can  use  will 
shake  me  from  my  purpose.  If  I  live,  I 
will  execute  my  design." 

"  While  I  live,  I  will  urge  you  to  it," 
remarkcul  (iarnet. 

"  And  whih?  /  live,  I  will  dissuade  you 
from  it,"  added  Viviana.  "  We  shall  see 
who  will  obtain  the  victory." 


84 


GUY    FAWKES. 


•'We  shall,"  replied  Garnet,  smiling 
confidentljr. 

"  Hear  me  further,"  continued  Viviana; 
"I  do  not  doubt  that  your  zeal  is  disin- 
terested; yet  still,  your  mode  of  life,  and 
the  difficulties  in  which  yo\i  are  placed, 
may  not  unnaturally  influence  your  con- 
duct. That  this  may  no  longer  be  the 
case,  I  here  place  part  of  my  fortune  at 
your  disposal.  I  require  little  or  nothinij 
m)'^self.  But  I  would,  if  possible,  save 
one  to  whom  I  owe  so  much,  and  whom  1 
value  so  much,  from  destruction." 

"I  fully  appreciate  your  Generosity — to 
give  it  its  lisrhtest  term — Viviana,"  re- 
turned Guy  Fawkes,  in  a  voice  of  deep 
emotion.  "  Under  any  circumstances  I 
should  reject  it — under  the  present,  I  do 
so  the  more  positively,  because  the  offer, 
kind  as  it  is,  seems  to  imply  that  my 
poverty  leads  me  to  act  contrary  to  my 
principles.  Gold  has  no  power  over  me. 
I  regard  it  as  dross;  and  when  1  could 
easily  have  won  it,  I  neglected  the  oppor- 
tunity. As  no  reward  would  ever  induce 
me  to  commit  an  action  my  conscience  dis- 
approved, so  none  will  deter  me  from  a 
purpose  which  I  regard  as  my  duty." 

"  Enough,"  replied  Viviana,  sadly.  "  I 
will  no  longer  question  your  motives,  or 
oppose  your  plan,  but  will  pray  heaven  to 
open  your  eyes  to  the  truth." 

"Your  conduct  is  in  all  respects  wor- 
thy of  you,  daughter,"  observed  Garnet, 
kindly. 

"  You  have  rejected  one  offer,"  said 
Viviana,  looking  at  P'awkes;  "  but  I  trust 
you  will  not  decline  that  I  am  about  to 
propose  to  you." 

"  What  is  it^?"  asked  Fawkes,  in  some 
surprise. 

"It  is  that  I  may  be  permitted  to  re- 
gard you  as  a  daughter,"  replied  Viviana. 
"  Having  lost  my  own  father,  I  feel  that  I 
need  some  protector,  and  I  would  gladly 
make  choice  of  you,  if  you  will  accept  the 
office." 

"I  willingly  accede  to  your  request, 
and  am  much  flattered  by  it,  Viviana," 
replied  Fawkes.  "I  am  a  homeless  man, 
and  a  friendless,  and  the  affection  of  such 
a  being  as  yourself  will  fill  up  the  only 
void  in  my  heart.  But  I  am  wedded  to 
the  great  cause.  I  can  never  be  more  to 
you  than  a  father." 

"Nay,  I  asked  nothing  more,"  replied 
Viviana,  blushing  deeply. 

"  Having  thus  arranged  the  terms  upon 
which  we  shall  travel,"  said  Garnet,  with 
a  smile,  "  nothing  is  needed  but  to  prepare 
for  our  journey.  We  start  early  to-morrow 
morning." 

"  I  shall  be  ready  at  daybreak,"  replied 
Viviana. 

"And  I   am   ready  now,"  added  Guy 


Fawkes.  "  In  my  opinion,  we  run  great 
risk  in  remaining  here  another  night.  But 
be  it  as  you  will." 

At  this  moment,  they  were  interrupted 
by  the  entrance  of  Father  Oldcorne,  who 
with  a  countenance  of  great  alarm  inform- 
ed them  that  he  could  nowhere  find  Martin 
Heydocke. 

"Do  you  suspect  any  treachery  on  his 
part]"  asked  Garnet  of  Viviana. 

"I  have  always  found  him  trustworthy," 
she  answered,  "and  his  father  was  my 
father's  oldest  servant.  I  cannot  think  he 
would  betray  us.  At  the  same  time,  I 
must  admit  his  disappearance  at  this  junc- 
ture looks  suspicious." 

"If  my  strength  were  equal  to  it,"  said 
Guy  Fawkes,  "  I  would  keep  watch 
throughout  the  night;  but  that  might  pre- 
vent me  from  accompanying  you  to-mor- 
row. I\Iy  advice,  I  repeat,  is — that  we 
should  set  out  at  once." 

This  opinion,  however,  was  overruled 
by  Garnet  and  Viviana,  who  did  not  think 
the  danger  so  urgent,  and  attributed  the 
absence  of  Martin  Heydocke  to  some  un- 
important cause.  Guy  Fawkes  made  no 
further  remonstrance,  and  it  was  agreed 
that  they  should  start,  as  originally  pro- 
posed, at  daybreak. 

The  party  then  separated,  and  Viviana 
wandered  alone  over  the  old  house,  taking 
a  farewell,  which  she  felt  would  be  her 
last,  of  every  familiar  object.  Few  things 
were  as  she  had  known  them,  but,  even  in 
their  present  forlorn  state  they  were  dear 
to  her;  and  the  rooms  she  trod,  though 
dismantled,  were  the  same  she  had  oc- 
cupied in  childhood. 

There  is  no  pang  more  acute  to  a  sensi- 
tive nature  than  that  occasioned  by  quit- 
ting an  abode  or  spot  endeared  by  early 
recollections  and  associations,  to  which 
we  feel  a  strong  presentiment  we  shall 
never  return.  Viviana  experienced  this 
feeling  in  its  full  force,  and  she  lingered 
in  each  room  as  if  she  had  not  the  power 
to  leave  it.  Her  emotions,  at  length  be- 
came so  overpowering,  that  to  relieve 
them  she  strolled  forth  into  the  garden. 
Here,  new  objects  awakened  her  attention, 
and  recalled  happier  times  with  painful 
distinctness.  Twilight  was  fast  deepen- 
ing, and,  viewed  through  this  dim  and 
softened  medium,  everything  looked  as  of 
old,  and  produced  a  tightening  and  stifling 
sensation  in  her  breast,  that  nothing  but  a 
flood  of  tears  could  remove. 

The  flowers  yielded  forth  their  richest 
scents,  and  the  whole  scene  was  such  as 
she  had  often  beheld  it  in  times  long  ago, 
when  sorrow  was  vi'holly  unknown  to  her. 
Perfumes,  it  is  well  known,  exercise  a 
singular  influence  over  the  'memory.  A 
particular  odor  will  frequently  call    up  an 


GUY    FAWKES. 


85 


event,  and  a  long  train  of  circumstances 
connected  with  the  time  when  it  was  first 
inhaled.  Without  being  aware  whence  it 
arose,  Viviana  felt  a  tide  of  recollections 
pressing  upon  her,  which  she  would  liave 
willingly  repressed,  but  which  it  was  out 
of  her  power  to  control.  Her  tears  flowed 
abundantly,  and  at  length,  with  a  heart 
somewhat  lightened  of  its  load,  she  arose 
from  the  bench  on  which  she  had  thrown 
herself,  and  proceeded  along  a  walk  to 
gather  a  few  flowers  as  memorials  of  the 
place. 

In  this  way  she  reached  the  further  end 
of  the  garden,  and  was  stooping  to  pluck 
a  spray  of  some  fragrant  shrub,  when  she 
perceived  the  figure  of  a  man  behind  a  tree 
at  a  little  distance  from  her.  P>om  his 
garb,  which  was  that  of  a  soldier,  she 
instantly  knew  he  was  an  enemy,  and, 
though  greatly  alarmed,  she  had  the 
courage  not  to  scream,  but  breaking  oflT 
the  branch,  she  uttered  a  careless  excla- 
mation, and  slowly  retraced  her  steps. 
She  half  expected  to  hear  that  the  soldier 
was  follovAing  her,  and  prepared  to  start 
oflF  at  full  speed  to  the  house;  but,  deceived 
by  her  manner,  he  did  not  stir.  On  reach- 
ing the  end  of  the  walk,  she  could  not 
resist  the  inclination  to  look  back,  and 
glancing  over  her  shoulder,  perceived  that 
the  man  was  watching  her.  But  as  she 
moved,  he  instantly  withdrew  his  head. 

Her  first  step  on  reaching  the  house  was 
to  close  and  fasten  the  door;  her  next  to 
hasten  to  Guy  Fawkes's  chamber,  where 
she  found  him,  together  with  Garnet  and 
Oldcorne.  All  three  were  astounded  at 
the  intelligence,  agreeing  that  an  attack 
was  intended,  and  that  a  large  force  was, 
in  all  probability,  concealed  in  the  garden, 
awaiting  only  the  arrival  of  night  to  sur- 
prise and  seize  them.  The  disappearance 
of  the  younger  Heydocke  was  no  longer  a 
mystery.  He  had  been  secured  and  car- 
ried ofl'  by  the  hostile  party,  to  prevent 
him  from  giving  the  alarm.  The  emer- 
gency was  a  fearful  one,  and  it  excited 
consternation  amongst  all  except  Guy 
Fawkes,  who  preserved  his  calmness. 

"  I  foresaw  we  would  be  attacked  to- 
night," he  said,  "  and  I  am  therefore  not 
wholly  unprepared.  Our  only  chance  is 
to  steal  out  unobserved;  for  resistance 
would  be  in  vain,  as  their  force  is  proba- 
bly numerous,  and  I  am  as  helpless  as  an 
infant,  while  Father  Garnet's  broken  arm 
precludes  any  assistance  from  him.  The 
subterranean  passage  leading  from  the 
oratory  to  the  further  side  of  the  moat 
having  been  stopped  up  by  the  pursuivant 
and  his  band,  it  will  he  necessary  to  cross 
the  drawbridge,  and  as  soon  as  it  grows 
sufliciently  dark,  we  must  make  tlie  at- 
tempt.    We  have  no  horses,  and  must 


trust  to  our  own  exertions  for  safety. 
Catesby  would  now  be  invaluable.  It  is 
not  like  him  to  desert  his  friends  at  the 
season  of  their  greatest  need. 

"  Great  as  is  my  danger,"  observed 
Viviana,  "  I  would  rather,  so  far  as  I  am 
concerned,  that  he  were  absent,  than  owe 
my  preservation  to  him.  I  have  no  fears 
for  myself." 

"And  my  only  fears  are  for  you,"  re- 
joined Fawkes. 

Half  an  hour  of  intense  anxiety  was  now 
passed  by  the  party.  Garnet  was  restless 
and  uneasy.  Oldcorne  betrayed  his  agi- 
tation by  unavailing  lamentations,  by  lis- 
tening to  every  sound,  and  by  constantly 
rushing  to  the  windows  to  reconnoitre, 
until  he  was  checked  by  Fawkes  who 
represented  to  him  the  folly  of  his  conduct. 
Viviana,  though  ill  at  ease,  did  not  allow 
her  terror  to  appear,  but  endeavored  to 
imitate  the  immoveable  demeanor  of  Guy 
Fawkes,  who  always  became  more  col- 
lected in  proportion  to  the  danger  with 
which  he  was  environed. 

At  the  expiration  of  the  time  above- 
mentioned,  it  had  become  quite  dark,  and 
desiring  his  companions  to  follow  him, 
Guy  Fawkes  drew  his  sword,  and,  grasp- 
ing the  hand  of  Viviana,  led  the  way  down 
stairs.  Before  opening  the  door  he  lis- 
tened intently,  and,  hearing  no  sound,  is- 
sued cautiously  forth.  The  party  had 
scarcely  gained  the  centre  of  the  court, 
when  a  petronel  was  discharged  at  them, 
which,  though  it  did  no  damage,  served 
as  a  signal  to  the  rest  of  their  foes.  Guy 
Fawkes,  who  had  never  relinquished  his 
hold  of  Viviana,  now  pressed  forward  as 
rapidl)'  as  his  strength  would  permit,  and 
the  two  priests  followed.  But  loud  shouts 
ware  raised  on  the  drawbridge,  and  it  was 
evident  it  was  occupied  by  the  enemy. 

Uncertain  what  to  do,  Guy  Fawkes 
halted,  and  was  about  to  return  to  the 
house,  when  a  shout  from  behind  told  him 
that  their  retreat  was  intercepted.  In  this 
dilemma  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to 
attempt  to  force  a  passage  across  the  draw- 
bridge, or  to  surrender  at  discretion,  and 
though  Guy  Fawkes  would  not  at  other 
seasons  have  hesitated  to  embrace  the  for- 
mer alternative,  he  knew  that  his  strength 
was  not  equal  to  it  now. 

While  he  Avas  internally  resolving  not 
to  yield  himself  with  life,  and  supporting 
Viviana,  who  clung  closely  to  liini,  the 
clatter  of  hoofs  was  heard  rapidly  ap- 
proaching along  the  avenue,  and  presently 
afterwards  two  horsemen  gallopped  at  full 
speed  toward  the  drawbridge.  This  sound 
had  likewise  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
enemy;  who,  apprehensive  of  a  rescue, 
prepared  to  stop  them.  But  the  tremen- 
dous pace  of  the  riders  rendered  this  im- 

8* 


86 


GUY    FAWKES. 


possible.  A  few  blows  were  exchano-ed, 
a  few  shots  fired,  and  they  had  crossed 
the  drawbridge. 

"  Who  goes  therel"  shouted  Guy 
Fawkes,  as  the  horsemen  approached  him. 

"  It  is  the  voice  of  Guy  Fawkes,"  cried 
the  foremost,  whose  tones  proclaimed  that 
it  was  Catesby.  "They  are  here,"  he 
cried,  reining  in  his  steed. 

"  Wliere  is  Viviana]"  vociferated  his 
companion,  who  was  no  other  than  Hum- 
phrey Chetham. 

"  Here — here,"  replied  Guy  Fawkes. 

With  the  quickness  of  thought,  the 
young  merchant  was  by  her  side,  and  in 
another  moment  she  was  placed  on  the 
saddle  before  him,  and  borne  at  a  headlong 
pace  across  the  drawbridge. 

"Follow  me,"  cried  Catesby.  "I  vs^ill 
clear  a  passage  for  you.  Once  across  the 
drawbridge,  you  are  safe.  A  hundred 
yards  down  the  avenue,  on  the  right,  you 
"will  find  a  couple  of  horses  tied  to  a  tree. 
Quick!  quick!" 

As  he  spoke,  a  shot  whizzed  past  his 
head,  and  a  tumultuous  din  in  the  rear  told 
that  iheir  pursuers  were  close  upon  them. 
Striking  spurs  into  his  steed,  Catesby 
dashed  forward,  and  dealing  blows  right 
and  left,  cleared  the  drawbridge  of  its  oc- 


cupants, many  of  whom  leaped  into  the 
moat  to  escape  his  fury.  His  companions 
were  close  at  his  heels,  and  got  over  the 
bridge  in  safety. 

"Fly!— fly!"  cried  Catesby— "  to  the 
horses — the  horses!  1  will  check  all  pur- 
suit." 

So  saying,  and  while  the  others  flew 
towards  the  avenue,  he  faced  his  oppo- 
nents, and  making  a  desperate  charge  upon 
them,  drove  them  backwards.  In  this 
conflict,  though  several  shots  were  fired, 
and  blows  aimed  at  him  on  all  sides,  he 
sustained  no  injury,  but  succeeded  in  de- 
fending the  pass  sufficiently  long  to  enable 
his  friends  to  mount. 

He  then  rode  off  at  full  speed,  and 
found  the  party  waiting  for  him  at  the  end 
of  the  avenue.  Father  Oldcorne  was  seat- 
ed on  the  same  steed  as  his  superior. 
After  riding  with  them  upwards  of  a  mile, 
Humphrey  Chetham  dismounted,  and,  re- 
signing his  horse  to  Viviana,  bade  her 
farewell,  and  disappeared. 

"And  now,  to  London!"  cried  Catesby, 
striking  into  a  road  on  the  right,  and  urg- 
ing his  steed  to  a  rapid  pace. 

"  Ay,  to  London! — to  the  Parliament- 
house!"  echoed  Fawkes,  following  with 
the  others. 


THE  END  OF  THE  FIRST  BOOK. 


BOOK    THE    SECOND 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE  LANDING  OF  THE  POWDER. 


Towards  the  close  of  the  sixth  day  after 
their  departure  from  Ordsall  Hall,  the 
party  approached  the  capital.  The  sun 
was  setting  as  they  descended  Highgate 
Hill,  and  the  view  of  the  ancient,  and  then 
most  picturesque  city,  was  so  enchanting, 
that  Viviana,  who  beheld  it  for  the  first 
time,  entreated  her  companions  to  pause 
for  a  few  minutes  to  allow  her  to  contem- 
plate it.  From  the  spot  where  they  lialted, 
the  country  was  completely  open  to  Clerk- 
enwell,  and  only  a  few  scattered  habita- 
tions lay  between  them  and  the  old,  grey 
ramparts  of  the  city,  with  their  gates  and 
fortifications,  which  were  easily  discer- 
nible even  at  that  distance.  Above  them 
rose  the  massive  body  and  reverend  tower 
of  Saint  Paul's  cathedral— a  structure  far 
surpassing  that  which  has  succeeded  it — 
while  amid  the  innumerable  gables,  point- 
ed roofs,  and  twisted  chimneys  of  the 
houses  sprang  a  multitude  of  lesser  towers 
and  spires,  lending  additional  beauty  to 
the  scene.  Viviana  was  enraptured,  and 
while  gazing  on  the  prospect,  almost  for- 
got her  sorrows.  Guy  Fawkes  and  Cates- 
by,  who  were  a  little  in  advance  of  the 
others,  turned  their  gaze  westward,  and 
the  former  observed  to  his  companion, 

"The  sun  is  setting  over  the  Parlia- 
ment House.  The  sky  seems  stained  with 
blood.  It  looks  portentous  of  what  is  to 
follow," 

"I  would  gladly  behold  the  explosion 
from  this  hill,  or  from  yon  heights,"  re- 
plied Catesby,  pointing  towards  Hamp- 
stead.  "  It  will  be  a  sight  such  as  man 
has  seldom  seen." 

"I  shall  never  live  to  witness  it!"  ex- 
claimed Fawkes,  in  a  melancholy  tone. 

"  What!  still  desponding?"  returned 
Catesby,  reproachfully,  "  I  thought,  since 
you  had  fully  recovered  from  your  wound, 
you  had  shaken  off  your  fears." 

"  You  misunderstand  me,"  replied 
Fawkes.  "  I  mean  that  I  shall  perish 
with  our  foes." 

"Why  sol"  cried  Catesby.  "There 
will  be  plenty  of  time  to  escape  after  you 
have  fired  the  train." 

"  I  shall  not  attempt  it,"  rejoined 
Fawkes,  in  a  sombre  voice,  "  I  will  abide 


the  result  in  the  vault.  If  I  perish  it  will 
be  a  glorious  death." 

"  Better  live  to  see  the  regeneration  of 
our  faith,  and  our  restoration  to  our  rights," 
rejoined  Catesby.  "  But  we  will  speak  of 
this  hereafter.     Here  comes  Garnet." 

"  Where  do  you  propose  we  should 
lodge  to-nightl"  asked  the  latter  riding 
up. 

"  At  the  house  at  Lambeth,  where  the 
powder  is  deposited,"  returned  Catesby. 

"  W'ill  it  be  safe]"  asked  Garnet,  un- 
easily. 

"  We  shall  be  safer  there  than  else- 
where, father,"  replied  Catesby.  "  If  it 
is  dark  enough  to-night,  P'awkes  and  I 
will  remove  a  portion  of  the  powder.  But 
we  are  losing  time.  W^e  must  pass  through 
the  city  before  the  gates  are  closed. 

In  this  suggestion  Garnet  acquiesced, 
and  calling  to  Viviana  to  follow  them — 
for,  since  his  late  atrocious  attempts, 
Catesby  had  not  exchanged  a  word  or  look 
with  her,  but  during  the  whole  of  the 
journey  kept  sedulously  aloof— the  whole 
party  set  forward,  and  proceeding  at  a 
brisk  pace,  soon  reached  the  walls  of  the 
city.  Passing  through  Cripplegate,  they 
shaped  their  course  towards  London 
Bridge.  Viv-iana  was  filled  with  aston- 
ishment at  all  she  saw:  the  multitude  and 
magnificence  of  the  shops,  compared  with 
such  as  she  had  previously  seen;  the 
crowds  in  the  streets — for  even  at  that 
hour  they  were  thronged;  the  varied 
dresses  of  the  passengers — the  sober  garb 
of  the  merchant,  contrasting  with  the 
showy  cloak,  the  preposterous  ruif,  swell- 
ing hose,  plumed  cap,  and  swaggering 
gait  of  the  gallant  or  the  ruiller;  the  brawls 
that  were  constantly  occurring;  the  number 
of  signs  projecting  from  the  dwellings;  all 
she  witnessed  or  heard  surprised  and 
amused  her,  and  she  would  willingly  have 
proceeded  at  a  slower  pace  to  indulge  her 
curiosity,  had  not  her  companions  urged 
her  onward. 

As  they  were  crossing  Eastcheap,  in 
the  direction  of  Crooked  Lane,  a  man  sud- 
denly quitted  the  footpath,  and  rushing 
towards  Garnet,  seized  his  bridle,  and 
cried, 


88 


GUY    FAWKES. 


"  I  arrest  you.  You  are  a  Romish 
priest." 

"It  is  false,  knave,"  returned  Garnet. 
"lam  as  good  a  Protestant  as  thyself, 
and  am  just  arrived  with  my  companions 
from  a  long  journey." 

"  Your  companions  are  all  rank  pa- 
pists," rejoined  the  stranger. 

"  You  yourself  are  Father  Garnet,  supe- 
rior of  the  Jesuits,  and,  if  I  am  not  de- 
ceived, tiie  person  next  you  is  Father  Old- 
come,  also  of  that  order.  If  I  am  wrong 
you  can  easily  refute  the  charge.  Come 
■with  me  to  the  council.  If  you  refuse,  I 
will  call  assistance  from  the  passengers." 

Garnet  saw  he  was  lost  if  he  did  not 
make  an  immediate  effort  at  self-preserva- 
tion, and  resolving  to  be  beforehand  with 
his  assailant,  he  shouted  at  tiie  top  of  his 
voice. 

"  Help!  help!  my  masters.  This  villain 
would  rob  me  of  my  purse." 

"  He  is  a  Komish  priest,"  vociferated 
the  stranger.  "I  call  upon  you  to  assist 
me  to  arrest  him." 

\\  hiie  tiie  passengers,  scarcely  knowing 
what  to  make  of  these  contradictory  state- 
ments, ihjcked  round  them,  Guy  Fawkes, 
who  was  a  little  in  advance  with  Catesby, 
rode  back,  and,  seeing  how  matters  stood, 
instantly  drew  a  petronel,  and  with  the 
butt-end  felled  the  stranger  to  the  ground. 
Thus  liberated.  Garnet  struck  spurs  into 
his  steed,  and  the  whole  party  dashed  oti" 
at  a  rapid  pace.  Shouts  were  raised  by 
the  bystanders,  a  few  of  whom  started  in 
pursuit,  but  the  speed  at  which  the  fugi- 
tives rode  soon  bore  them  out' 6f  danger. 

Ey  this  time,  they  had  reached  London 
Bridge,  and  Viviana  in  some  degree  re- 
covered from  the  fright  caused  by  the 
recent  occurrence,  ventured  to  look  around 
her.  She  could  scarcely  believe  she  was 
crossing  a  bridge,  so  completely  did  the 
tall  houses  give  it  the  appearance  of  a 
street;  and,  if  it  had  not  been  for  occasion- 
al glimpses  of  the  river  caught  between 
the  openings  of  these  lofty  habitations, 
she  would  have  thought  her  companions 
had  mistaken  the  road.  As  they  approach- 
ed the  ancient  gateway  (afterwards  denom- 
inated Traitor's  Tower),  at  the  Southwark 
side  of  the  bridge,  she  remarked  with  a 
shudder  the  dismal  array  of  heads  gar- 
nishing its  spikes,  and  pointing  them  out 
to  Fawkes,  cried, 

"  Heaven  grant  yours  may  never  be 
amongst  the  number!" 

Fawkes  made  no  answer,  but  dashed  be- 
neath the  low  and  gloomy  arch  of  the  gate. 

Striking  into  a  street  on  the  right,  the 
party  skirted  the  walls  of  Saint  Saviour's 
Church  and  presently  drew  near  the  Globe 
theatre,  above  which  floated  its  banner. — 
Adjoining  it  was  the  old  Bear-Garden — 


the  savage  inmates  of  which  made  them- 
selves sutUciently  audible.  Garnet  hastily 
pointed  out  the  first-mentioned  place  of 
amusement  to  Viviana  as  they  passed  it, 
and  her  reading  having  made  her  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  noble  dramas  produced 
at  that  unpretending  establishment — little 
better  than  a  barn  in  comparison  with  a 
modern  playhouse — she  regarded  it  with 
deep  interest.  Another  theatre — the  Swan 
— speedily  claimed  her  attention;  and,  leav- 
ing it  behind,  they  came  upon  the  open 
country. 

It  was  now  growing  rapidly  dark,  and 
Catesby,  turning  off  into  a  narrow  lane  on 
the  right,  shouted  to  his  companions  to 
keep  near  him.  The  tract  of  land  they 
were  traversing  was  flat  and  marshy. — 
The  air  was  damp  and  unwholesome — for 
the  swamp  had  not  been  drained  as  in  later 
times — and  the  misty  exhalations  arising 
from  it  added  to  the  obscurity.  Catesby, 
however,  did  not  relax  his  pace,  and  his 
companions  imitated  his  example.  Ano- 
ther turn  on  the  right  seemed  to  bring 
them  still  nearer  the  river,  and  involved 
them  in  a  thicker  fog. 

All  at  once,  Catesby  stopped,  and  cried, 

"  We  should  be  near  the  house.  And 
yet  this  fog  perplexes  me.  Stay  here 
while  I  search  for  it." 

"If  you  leave  us,  we  shall  not  readily 
meet  again,"  rejoined  Fawkes. 

But  the  caution  was  unheeded,  Catesby 
having  already  disappeared.  A  few  mo- 
ments afterwards,  F'awkes  heard  the  sound 
of  a  horse's  hoofs  approaching  him;i,and, 
thinking  it  was  Catesby,  he  hailed  the 
rider. 

The  horseman  made  no  answer,  but 
continued  to  advance  towards  them. 

Just  then,  the  voice  of  Catesby  was 
heard  at  a  little  distance,  shouting,  "  I 
was  right.     It  is  here." 

The  party  then  hastened  in  the  direction 
of  the  cry,  and  perceived  through  the 
gloom  a  low  building,  before  the  door  of 
which,  Catesby,  who  had  dismounted, 
was  standing. 

"  A  stranger  is  amongst  us,"  observed 
Fawkes,  in  an  undertone  as  he  rode  up. 

"  Where  is  he]"  demanded  Catesby, 
hastily. 

"Here,"  replied  a  voice.  "Cut,  fear 
nothing.     I  am  a  friend." 

"I  must  have  stronger  assurance  than 
that,"  replied  Catesby.     "  Who  are  you]" 

"  Robert  Keyes,"  replied  the  other. — 
"  Do  you  not  know  iny  voice." 

"In  good  truth  1  did  not,"  rejoined 
Catesby,  "and  you  have  spoken  just  in 
time.  Your  arrival  is  most  opportune. 
But  what  brings  you  hereto-night]" 

"The  same  errand  as  yourself,  I  con- 
clude,   Catesby,"    replied     Keyes,      "I 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


came  here  to  see  that  all  was  in  safety. — 
But,  who  have  you  with  youl" 

"  Let  us  enter  the  house,  and  you  shall 
learn,"  replied  Catesby. 

With  this,  he  tapped  thrice  at  the  door 
in  a  peculiar  manner,  and  presently  a 
light  was  seen  through  the  windows, 
and  a  voice  from  within  demanded  who 
knocked. 

"  Your  master,"  replied  Catesby. 

Upon  this,  the  door  was  instantly  un- 
barred. After  a  hasty  greeting  between 
Catesby  and  his  servant,  whom  he  ad- 
dressed as  Thomas  Bates,  the  former  in- 
quired whether  aught  had  occurred  during 
his  absence,  and  was  answered  that,  except 
an  occasional  visit  from  IMr.  Percy,  one  of 
the  conspirators,  no  one  had  been  near  the 
house,  everything  being  in  precisely  the 
same  state  he  had  left  it. 

"That  is  well,"  replied  Catesby.— 
"  Now,  then,  to  dispose  of  the  horses." 

All  the  party  having  dismounted,  their 
steeds  were  led  to  a  stable  at  the  back  of 
the  premises  by  Catesby  and  Bates,  while 
the  others  entered  the  house.  It  was  a 
small  mean-looking  habitation,  standing  at 
a  short  distance  from  the  river-side,  on  the 
skirts  of  Lambeth  Marsh,  and  its  secluded 
situation  and  miserable  appearance  seldom 
induced  any  one  to  visit  it.  On  one  side 
was  a  deep  muddy  sluice  communicating 
with  the  river.  Within,  it  possessed  but 
slight  accommodation,  and  only  numbered 
four  apartments.  One  of  the  best  of  these 
was  assigned  to  Viviana,  and  she  retired 
to  it  as  soon  as  it  could  be  prepared  for 
her  reception.  Garnet,  who  still  carried 
his  arm  in  a  sling,  but  was  in  other  res- 
pects almost  recovered  from  his  accident, 
tendered  every  assistance  in  liis  power, 
and  would  have  remained  with  her,  but 
she  entreated  to  be  left  alone.  On  de- 
scending to  the  lower  room,  he  found  Cates- 
by, who,  having  left  Bates  in  care  of  the 
horses,  produced  such  refreshments  as 
they  had  brought  with  them.  These  were 
scanty  enough;  but  a  few  flasks  of  excel- 
lent wine  which  they  found  within  the 
house  made  some  amends  for  the  meagre 
repast.  Viviana  was  solicited  by  Guy 
Fawkes  to  join  them;  but  she  declined, 
alleging  that  she  was  greatly  fatigued,  and 
about  to  retire  to  rest. 

Their  meal  ended,  Catesby  proposed 
that  they  should  ascertain  the  condition  of 
the  powder,  as  he  feared  it  might  have 
suffered  from  being  so  long  in  the  vault. 
Before  making  this  examination,  the  door 
was  carefully  barred:  the  shutters  of  the 
■windows  closed;  and  Guy  FawUes  placed 
himself  as  sentinel  at  the  door.  A  flag 
beneath  the  grate,  in  whicli  a  fire  was 
never  kindled,  was  then  raised,  and  dis- 
closed a  flight  of  steps  leading  to  a  vault 


beneath.  Catesby  having  placed  a  light 
in  a  lantern,  descended  with  Keycs;  but 
both  Garnet  and  Oldcorne  refused  to  ac- 
company them. 

The  vault  was  arched  and  lofty,  and, 
strange  to  say,  for  its  situation,  dry — a 
circumstance  owing,  in  all  probability,  to 
the  great  tliickness  of  the  walls.  On 
either  side  were  ranged  twenty  barrels 
filled  with  powder;  and  at  the  further  end 
stood  a  pile  of  arms,  consisting  of  pikes, 
rapiers,  demi-lances,  petronels,  calivers, 
corslets,  and  morions.  Removintr  one  of 
the  barrels  from  its  station,  Catesby  forced 
open  the  lid,  and  examined  its  contents, 
which  he  found  perfectly  dry  and  unin- 
jured. 

"It  is  fit  for  use,"  he  observed,  with  a 
significant  smile,  as  he  exhibited  a  hand- 
ful of  the  powder  to  Keyes,  wlio  stood  at  a 
little  distance  with  the  lantern;  "if  it  will 
keep  as  well  in  the  cellar  beneath  the 
Parliament  House,  our  foes  will  soon  be 
nearer  heaven,  than  they  would  ever  be  if 
left  to  themselves." 

"When  do  you  propose  to  transport  it 
across  the  river?"  asked  Keyes. 

"To-night,"  replied  Catesby.  "It  is 
dark  and  foggy,  and  fitting  for  the  purpose- 
Bates!"  he  shouted;  and  at  the  call  his 
servant  instantly  descended.  "Is  the 
wherry  at  her  moorings'?" 

"  Slie  is,  your  worship,"  replied  Bates. 

"  You  must  cross  the  river  instantly, 
then,"  rejoined  Catesby,  "and  proceed  to 
the  dwelling  adjoining  the  Parliament 
House,  which  we  hired  from  Ferris. 
Here  is  the'key.  Examine  the  premises 
— and  bring  word  whether  all  is   secure." 

Bales  was  about  to  depart,  when  Keyes 
volunteering  to  accompany  him,  tliey  left 
the  house  togetiier.  Having  fastened 
down  the  lid  of  the  cask,  Catesby  sum- 
moned Fawkes  to  his  assistance,  and  by 
his  help  as  many  barrels  as  could  be  safely 
stowed  in  the  boat  were  brought  out  of 
the  vault.  More  than  two  hours  elapsed 
before  Bates  returned.  He  was  alone,  and 
informed  them  that  all  was  secure,  but 
that  KeyfS  had  decided  on  remaining 
where  he  was — it  being  so  dark  and  foggy, 
that  it  was  scarcely  possible  to  cross  the 
river. 

"1  had  some  diflficulty  in  landing,"  he 
added,  "and  got  considerably  out  of  my 
course.  I  never  was  out  on  so  dark  a 
night  before." 

"  It  is  the  better  for  us,"  rejoined  Cates- 
by. "  We  shall  be  sure  to  escape  obser- 
vation." 

In  tliis  opinion  Guy  Fawkes  concurred, 
and  tliey  proceeded  to  transport  the  pow- 
der to  the  boat,  which  was  brougiit  up  the 
sluice  within  a  few  yards  of  tlie  door. 
Tins  done,  and  the  barrels  covered  with  a 


90 


GUY    FAWKES. 


piece  of  tarpaulin,  they  embarked,  and 
Fawkes,  seizing  an  oar,  propelled  the 
skiff  along  the  narrow  creek. 

As  Bates  had  stated,  the  fo^  was  so 
dense,  that  it  was  wholly  impossible  to 
steer  correctly,  and  Fawkes  was  therefore 
obliged  to  trust  to  chance  as  to  the  course 
he  took.  However,  havintj  fully  regained 
iiis  strengtii,  he  rowed  with  great  swift- 
ness, and,  as  far  as  he  could  judge,  had 
gained  tlie  mid-stream,  when,  before  he 
could  avoid  it,  he  came  in  violent  contact 
with  another  boat,  oversetting  it,  and 
plunging  its  occupants  in  the  stream. 

Disregarding  the  hints  and  even  me- 
naces of  (^atesby,  who  urged  him  to  pro 
ceed,  Fawkes  immediately  lay  upon  his 
oars,  and,  as  the  water  was  perfectly 
smooth,  succeeded,  without  much  diffi- 
culty, in  extricating  the  two  men  from 
their  perilous  situation.  Their  boat  hav- 
ing drifted  down  the  stream,  could  not  be 
recovered.  'J'he  chief  of  these  personages 
was  profuse  in  his  thanks  to  his  deliver- 
ers, whom  he  supposed  to  be  watermen, 
and  they  took  care  not  to  undeceive  him. 

"  You  may  rely  upon  my  gratitude," 
he  said;  "and  when  I  tell  you  I  am  the 
Earl  of  Salisbury,  you  will  be  satisfied  I 
have  the  means  of  evincing  it." 

"The  Earl  of  Salisbury!"  exclaimed 
Catesby,  who  was  seated  by  Fawkes, 
having  taken  one  of  the  oars.  "  Is  it  pos- 
sible]" 

"  I  have  been  on  secret  state  business," 
replied  the  earl,  "and  did  not  choose  to 
employ  my  own  barge.  I  was  returning 
to  Wliitehall,  when  youi  boat  struck 
against  mine." 

"It  is  our  bitterest  enemy,"  observed 
Catesby,  in  an  under  tone,  to  Fawkes. 
"Fate  has  delivered  him  into  our  hands." 

"  What  are  you  about  to  do"?"  demanded 
Fawkes,  observing  that  his  companion  no 
longer  pulled  at  the  oar. 

"Siioot  him,"  replied  Catesby.  "Keep 
still,  while  I  disengage  my  petronel." 

"  It  shall  not  be,"  returned  Fawkes, 
laying  a  firm  grasp  upon  his  arm.  "  Let 
him  perish  with  the  others." 

"If  we  suffer  him  to  escape  now,  we 
may  never  have  such  a  chance  again," 
rejoined  Catesby.     "I  will  shoot  him." 

"  I  say  you  shall  not,"  rejoined  Fawkes. 
"  His  hour  is  not  yet  come." 

"  W  hat  are  you  talking  about,  my  mas- 
ters]" demanded  the  earl,  who  was  shiv- 
ering in  liis  wet  garments. 

"Nothing,"  replied  Catesby,  hastily. 
"I  will  throw  him  overboard,"  he  whis- 
pered to  Fawkes. 

"Again  1  say,  you  shall  not,"  replied 
the  latter. 

"  I  see  what  you  are  afraid  of,"  cried 
the  earl.     "  You   are   smugijlers.      You 


have  got  some  casks  of  distilled  waters  on 
board,  and  are  afraid  I  may  report  you. 
Fear  nothing.  Land  me  near  the  palace, 
and  count  u])on  my  gratitude." 

"Our  course  lies  in  a  different  direc- 
tion," replied  Catesby,  sternly.  "  If  your 
lordship  lands  at  all,  it  must  be  where  we 
choose." 

"  But  I  have  to  see  the  King  to-night. 
I  have  some  important  papers  to  deliver 
to  him  respecting  "the  Papists,"  replied 
Salisbury. 

"Indeed!"  exclaimed  Catesby.  "We 
must,  at  least,  have  those  papers,"  he 
observed  in  a  whisper  to  Fawkes. 

"That  is  a  different  affair,"  replied 
Fawkes.  "They  may  prove  serviceable 
to  us." 

"My  lord,"  observed  Catesby,  "  by  a 
strange  chance  you  have  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  Catholics.  You  will  be  pleased 
to  deliver  these  papers  to  us." 

"Ah!  villains,  would  you  rob  me?" 
cried  the  earl.  "You  shall  take  my  life 
sooner." 

"  We  will  take  both,  if  you  resist,"  re- 
plied Catesby,  in  a  menacing  tone. 

"Nay,  then,"  returned  Salisbury,  at- 
tempting to  draw  his  sword,  "  we  will 
see  who  will  obtain  the  mastery.  W'e  are 
equally  matched.  Come  on,  I  fear  you 
not." 

But  the  waterman  who  had  rowed  the 
earl  was  not  of  equal  courage  with  his 
employer,  and  refused  to  take  part  in  the 
conflict. 

"It  will  be  useless  to  contend  with  us," 
cried  Catesby,  relinquishing  the  oar  to 
Fawkes,  and  springing  forward.  "I  must 
have  those  papers,"  he  added,  seizing  the 
earl  by  the  throat,  "or  I  will  throw  you 
overboard." 

"  I  am  mistaken  in  you,"  returned  Salis- 
bury; "you  are  no  common  mariner." 

"It  matters  not  who,  or  what  I  am," 
rejoined  Catesby,  fiercely.  "  Your  pa- 
pers, or  you  die." 

Finding  it  in  vain  to  contend  with  his 
opponent,  the  earl  was  fain  to  yield,  and 
reluctantly  produced  a  packet  from  his 
doublet,  and  delivered  it  to  him. 

"  You  will  repent  this  outrage,  villain," 
he  said. 

"  Your  lordship  will  do  well  to  recollect 
you  are  still  in  my  power,"  rejoined  Cates- 
by. "One  thrust  of  my  sword  will  wipe 
off  some  of  tlie  injuries  you  have  inflicted 
on  our  suffering  jjarty." 

"  I  have  heard  your  voice  before,"  cried 
Salisbury;  "you  shall  not  escape  me." 

"  Your  imprudence  has  destroyed  you," 
retorted  Catesby,  clutching  the  earl's 
throat  more  tightly,  and  shortening  his 
sword,  with  the  intent  to  plunge  it  into 
liis  breast. 


GUY    F  A  W  K  E  S. 


91 


"  Hold!"  exclaimed  Fawkes,  graspinjr 
his  arm,  and  preventing  the  blow.  "  1 
have  already  said  you  sliall  not  slay  liim. 
You  are  in  possession  of  his  papers. 
What  more  would  you  have?" 

"  His  life,"  replied  Catesby,  struggling 
to  liberate  his  arm. 

"Let  him  swear  not  to  betray  us,"  re- 
joined Fawkes.  "If  he  refuses,  I  will 
not  stay  your  hand." 

"  You  hear  what  my  companion  says, 
my  lord,"  cried  Catesby.  "Will  you 
swear  to  keep  silence  as  to  what  has  just 
occurred]" 

After  a  moment's  hesitation,  Salisbury 
assented,  and  Catesby  relinquished  his 
grasp. 

During  this  time,  the  boat  had  drifted 
considerably  down  the  stream,  and,  in 
spite  of  the  darkness,  Catesby  noticed 
■with  some  uneasiness  that  they  were  ap- 
proaching more  than  one  vessel.  The  Earl 
of  Salisbury  also  perceived  this,  and  raised 
a  cry  for  help,  but  was  instantly  checked 
by  Catesby,  who  took  a  seat  beside  him, 
and  placing  the  point  of  his  rapier  at  his 
breast,  swore  he  would  stab  hira  if  he 
made  any  further  clamor. 

The  threat,  and  the  dangerous  propin- 
quity of  his  enemy,  effectually  silenced 
the  earl,  and  Catesby  directed  Fawkes  to 
make  for  the  shore  as  quickly  as  he 
could.  His  injunctions  were  obeyed,  and 
Fawkes  plied  the  oars  with  so  m.uch  good 
will,  that  in  a  few  minutes  the  wherry 
struck  against  the  steps  which  projected 
far  into  the  water,  a  little  to  the  right 
of  the  Star  Chamber,  precisely  on  the 
spot  where  Westminster  Bridge  now 
stands. 

Here  the  earl  and  his  companion  were 
allowed  to  disembark,  and  they  had  no 
sooner  set  foot  on  land  than  Guy  Fawkes 
pushed  off  the  boat,  and  rowed  as  swiftly 
as  he  could  towards  the  centre  of  the 
stream.  He  then  demanded  of  Catesby 
whether  he  should  make  for  the  Parlia- 
ment House,  or  return. 

"  I  scarcely  know  what  to  advise,"  re- 
plied Catesby.  "I  do  not  think  the  earl 
will  attempt  pursuit.  And  yet  1  know 
not.  The  papers  we  have  obtained  may 
be  important.  Cease  rowing  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  let  us  listen." 

Guy  Fawkes  complied,  and  they  listened 
intently,  but  could  only  hear  the  rippling 
of  the  current  against  the  sides  of  the 
skiff.  ^ 

"  We  have  nothing  to  fear,"  observed 
Catesby.  "  He  will  not  pursue  us,  or  he 
cannot  find  a  boat." 

As  he  spoke,  the  glimmer  of  torches 
was  visible  on  the  shore,  and  the  plunge 
of  oars  into  the  water  convinced  him  his 
opinion  was  erroneous. 


"  What  course  shall  we  take?"  inquired 
Fawkes. 

"I  care  not,"  replied  Catesby,  sullenly, 
"If  I  had  had  my  own  way,  this  would 
not  have  happened." 

"  Have  no  fears,"  replied  Fawkes,  row- 
ing swiftly  down  tlie  stream.  "  We  shall 
easily  escape." 

"  We  will  not  be  taken  alive,"  returned 
Catesby,  seating  himself  on  one  of  the  bar- 
rels, and  hammering  against  the  lid  with 
the  butt-end  of  his  petronel.  "  I  will 
sooner  blow  us  all  to  perdition  than  he 
shall  capture  us." 

"  You  are  right,"  replied  Fawkes.  "  By 
my  patron,  Saint  James,  he  is  taking  the 
same  course  as  ourselves." 

"  Well,  let  him  board  us,"  replied 
Catesby.     "  I  am  ready  for  him." 

"  Do  as  you  think  proper  if  the  worst 
occurs,"  returned  Fawkes.  "  But,  if  we 
make  no  noise,  I  am  assured  we  shall  not 
be  perceived." 

With  this,  he  ceased  rowing,  and  suf- 
fered the  boat  to  drop  down  the  stream. 
As  ill-luck  would  have  it,  it  seemed  as  if 
the  hostile  bark  had  struck  completely  into 
their  track,  and,  aided  by  the  current,  and 
four  sturdy  rowers  was  swiftly  approaching. 

"The  earl  will  be  upon  us  in  a  few 
minutes,"  replied  Catesby.  "If  you  have 
any  prayers  to  offer,  recite  them  quickly, 
for  I  swear  I  will  be  as  good  as  my  word." 

"I  am  ever  prepared  for  deatii,"  replied 
Fawkes.     "  Ha!  we  are  saved!" 

This  last  exclamation  was  occasioned 
by  his  remarking  a  large  barge,  towards 
which  they  were  rapidly  drifting. 

"  What  are  you  about  to  do?"  cried 
Catesby. — "  Leap  on  board,  and  abandon 
the  skiff,  together  with  its  contents'?" 

"No,"  replied  Fawkes;  "sit  still,  and 
leave  the  rest  to  me." 

By  this  time,  they  had  approached  the 
barge,  which  was  lying  at  anchor,  and 
Guy  Fawkes,  grasping  a  boat-hook,  fixed 
it  in  the  vessel  as  they  passed,  and  drew 
their  own  boat  close  to  its  side — so  close, 
in  fact,  that  it  could  not  be  distinguished 
from  it. 

The  next  moment,  the  chase  came  up, 
and  they  distinctly  perceived  the  Earl  of 
Salisbury  seated  in  the  stern  of  the  boat, 
holding  a  torch.  As  he  approached  the 
barge,  he  held  the  light  towards  it:  but 
the  skiff  being  on  the  off-side,  entirely 
escaped  notice.  When  the  chase  had  got 
to  a  sufficient  distance  to  be  out  of  hearing, 
the  fugitives  rowed  swiftly  in  the  contrary 
direction. 

Not  judging  it  prudent  to  land,  they 
continued  to  ply  the  oars  until,  latigue 
compelled  them  to  desist,  and  ihcy  had 
placed  some  miles  between  them  and  their 
pursuers. 


92 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


"  Long  before  this,  the  earl  must  have 
given  up  the  chase,"  observed  Catesby. 
"  We  must  return  before  daybreak,  and 
either  land  our  powder  near  the  Parlia- 
ment House,  or  take  it  back  to  the  vault 
at  Lambeth." 

'*  We  shall  run  equal  risk  either  way," 
replied  Fawkes,  "and,  having  ventured 
thus  far,  we  may  as  well  go  through  with 
it.     I  am  for  landing  at  Westminster." 

"And  I,"  rejoined  Catesby.  "I  do  not 
like  giving  up  a  project  when  I  have  once 
undertaken  it." 

"  You  speak  my  sentiments  exactly," 
returned  Fawkes.     "  Westminster  be  it." 

After  remaining  stationary  for  about  an 
hour,  they  rowed  back  again,  and  aided  by 
the  stream,  in  a  short  time  reached  their 
destination.  The  fog  had  in  a  great  de- 
gree cleared  off,  and  day  began  to  break  as 
they  approached  the  stairs  leading  to  the 
Parliament  House.     Thoucrh  this  was  not 


what  they  desired,  inasmuch  as  the  light 
added  to  the  risk  they  would  have  run  in 
landing  the  powder,  it  enabled  them  to 
ascertain  that  no  one  was  on  the  watch. 

Running  swiftly  in  towards  a  sort  of 
wharf,  protected  by  a  roofed  building, 
Catesby  leapt  ashore,  and  tied  the  skiff  to 
a  ring  in  the  steps.  He  then  desired 
Fawkes  to  hand  out  the  powder  as  quickly 
as  he  could.  The  order  was  promptly 
obeyed,  and  ia  a  few  minutes  several  bar- 
rels were  on  the  strand. 

"  Had  you  not  belter  fetch  Keyes  to 
help  us,  while  I  get  out  the  rest]"  ob- 
served Fawkes. 

Catesby  assented,  and  hurrying  to  the 
house,  found  Keyes,  wlio  was  in  great 
alarm  about  them.  He  instantly  accom- 
panied the  other  to  the  wharf,  and  by  their 
united  efforts  the  powder  was  expeditious- 
ly and  safely  removed. 


CHAPTER    IL 


THE  TRAITOR. 


The  habitation,  to  which  the  powder 
was  conveyed,  adjoined,  as  has  already 
been  slated,  the  Parliament-house,  and 
stood  at  the  southwest  corner  of  that 
structure.  It  was  a  small  building,  two 
stories  high,  with  a  little  garden  attached 
to  it,  surrounded  by  lofty  walls,  and  be- 
longed to  Whinneard,  the  keeper  of  the 
royal  wardrobe,  by  whom  it  was  let  to  a 
person  named  Ferris.  From  the  latter  it 
was  hired  by  Thomas  Percy,  one  of  the 
conspirators,  and  a  relative  of  the  Earl  of 
Northumberland,  of  whom  it  will  be  neces- 
sary to  speak  more  fully  hereafter,  for  the 
purpose  to  which  it  was  now  put. 

Having  bestowed  the  barrels  of  powder 
carefully  m  tlie  cellar,  and  fastened  the 
door  of  the  house  and  the  garden-gate  after 
them,  the  trio  returned  to  the  boat,  and 
rowed  back  to  Lambeth,  where  they  ar- 
rived without  being  noticed.  They  then 
threw  themselves  upon  the  floor,  and 
sought  some  repose  after  their  fatigue. 

It  was  late  in  the  day  before  they  awoke. 
Garnet  and  Oldcorne  had  been  long  astir; 
but  Viviana  had  not  quitted  her  chamber. 
Catesby's  first  object  was  to  examine  the 
packet  he  had  obtained  from  the  Earl  of 
Salisbury,  and  withdrawing  to  a  corner, 
he  read  over  the  papers  one  by  one,  care- 
fully. 

Guy  Fawkes  watched  his  countenance 
as  he  perused  them,  but  he  asked  no  ques- 
tions.    Many  of  the  documents  appeared  , 
to  have  little  iuteresl,  for  Catesby  tossed  i 


them  aside  with  an  exclamation  of  disap- 
pointment. At  length,  however,  a  small 
note  dropped  from  the  bundle.  Catesby 
picked  it  up,  oj)ened  it,  and  his  whole  ex- 
pression changed.  His  brow  grew  con- 
tracted; and,  springing  to  his  feet,  he 
uttered  an  ejaculation  of  rage,  crying,  "  It 
is  as  I  suspected.  We  have  traitors 
among  us." 

"Whom  do  you  suspect?"  cried  Fawkes. 

"Tresham!"  cried  Catesby,  in  a  voice 
of  thunder — "the  fawning,  wily,  lying 
Tresham.  Fool  that  I  was  to  league  him 
with  us." 

"  He  is  your  own  kinsman,"  observed 
Garnet. 

"  He  is,"  replied  Catesby;  "  but  were 
he  my  own  broliier  he  should  die.  Here 
is  a  letter  from  him  to  Lord  Mounteagle, 
which  has  found  its  way  to  the  Earl  of 
Salisbury,  hinting  that  a  plot  is  hatching 
against  the  state,  and  offering  to  give  him 
full  information  of  it." 

"Traitor!  false,  perjured  traitor!"  cried 
Fawkes.     "  He  must  die." 

"  He  shall  fall  by  my  hand,"  rejoined 
Calesby.  "Stay!  a  plan  occurs  to  me. 
He  cannot  be  aware  that  this  letter  is  in  my 
possession.  I  will  send  Bates  to  bid  him 
come  hither.  We  will  then  charge  him 
with  his  criminality,  and  put  him  to  death." 

"  He  deserves  severe  punishment,  no 
doubt,"  replied  Garnet;  "but  I  am  unwill- 
ing you  should  proceed  to  the  last  extre- 
mities with  him." 


GUY     FAWKES. 


93 


"There  is  no  alternative,  father,"  re- 
plied ('atesby.  "  Our  safety  demands  his 
destruction." 

Garnet  returned  no  answer,  but  bowed 
his  head  sorrowfully  upon  his  breast. 
Bates  was  then  despatched  to  Tresham; 
and  preparations  were  made  by  the  three 
lay  conspirators  for  executing  their  fell 
design. 

It  was  agreed,  that  on  his  arrival  Tres- 
ham should  be  seized  and  disarmed,  and 
after  being  interrogated  by  Catcsby  toucii- 
ing  the  extent  of  his  treachery,  should  be 
stabbed  by  Guy  Fawkes.  This  being  re- 
solved upon,  it  became  a  question  how 
they  should  act  in  the  interim.  It  was 
possible  that,  after  the  loss  of  his  papers, 
some  communication  might  take  place  be- 
tween tlie  Earl  of  Salisbury  and  Lord 
Mounteagle,  and  through  the  latter  with 
Tresham.  Thus  prepared,  on  the  arrival 
of  Bates,  Tresham,  seeing  through  their 
design,  instead  of  accompanying  him, 
might  give  information  of  their  retreat  to 
the  officers.  The  contingency  was  by  no 
means  improbable;  and  it  was  urged  so 
strongly  by  Garnet,  that  Catesby  began 
to  regret  his  precipitancy  in  sending  the 
message.  Still,  his  choler  was  so  greatly 
roused  against  Tresham,  that  he  resolved 
to  gratify  his  vengeance  at  any  risk. 

"If  he  betrays  us,  and  brings  the  offi- 
cers here,  we  shall  know  how  to  act,"  he 
remarked  to  Fawkes.  "There  is  that 
below  which  will  avenge  us  on  them 
all." 

"True,"  replied  Fawkes.  "  But  I  trust 
we  shall  not  be  obliged  to  resort  to  it." 

Soon  after  this,  Bates  returned  with  a 
message  from  Tresham,  stating  that  he 
would  be  at  the  rendezvous  at  nightfall, 
and  that  he  had  important  disclosures  to 
make  to  them.  He  desired  them,  more- 
over, to  observe  the  utmost  caution,  and 
not  to  stir  abroad. 

"He  may,  perhaps,  be  able  to  offer 
an  ex[)lanation  of  liis  conduct,"  observed 
Keyes." 

"  Iinpossible,"  returned  (,'ateshy.  "But 
he  shall  not  die  without  a  hearing  " 

"That  is  all  1  desire,"  returned  Keyes. 
While  the  others  were  debating  upon 
the  interrogations  they  should  i)Ut  to  'IVes- 
ham,  and  further  examining  the  Karl  of 
Salisbury's  papers.  Garnet  repaired  to 
Viviana's  chamber,  and  informed  her  what 
was  al)out  to  take  place.  She  was  filled 
with  consternation,  and  entreated  to  be 
allowed  to  see  Guy  Fawkes  i'or  a  few 
moments  alone.  Moved  by  her  supplica- 
tions. Garnet  complied,  and  ])resently 
afterwards  Fawkes  entered  tiie  room. 

"You  have  sent  for  me,  Viviana,"  he 
said.     "  What  would  you'?" 

"  I  have  just  heard  you  are  about  to  put 

9 


one  of  your  companions  to  death,"  she  re- 
plied.    "  It  must  not  be." 

"Viviana  liadcliife,"  returned  Fawkes, 
"  by  your  own  desire  you  have  mixed 
yourself  up  with  my  fortunes.  I  will  not 
now  discuss  the  prudence  of  the  step  you 
have  taken.  But  I  deem  it  necessary  to 
tell  you,  once  for  all,  that  any  attempts  to 
turn  me  from  the  line  of  conduct  I  have 
marked  out  to  myself  will  fail.  Tresham 
has  betrayed  us,  and  he  must  pay  the 
penalty  of  his  treason." 

"  But  not  with  his  life,"  replied  Vivi- 
ana. "  Do  you  not  now  perceive  into 
what  enormities  this  fatal  enterprise  will 
lead  you.  It  is  not  one  crime  alone  that 
you  are  about  to  commit,  but  many.  You 
constitute  yourselves  judges  of  your  com- 
panion, and  without  allowing  him  to  de- 
fend himself,  take  his  life.  Disguise  it  as 
you  may,  it  is  assassination — cold-blooded 
assassination," 

"His  life  is  justly  forfeited,"  replied 
Guy  Fawkes,  sternly.  "  When  he  took 
the  oath  of  secrecy  and  fidelity  to  our 
league,  he  well  knew  what  the  conse- 
quences would  be  if  he  violated  it.  He 
has  done  so.  He  has  compromised  our 
safety.  Nay  he  has  sold  us  to  our  ene- 
mies, and  nothing  shall  save  him." 

"  If  this  is  so,"  replied  Viviana,  "  how 
much  better  would  it  be  to  employ  the 
time  now  left  in  providing  for  your  safety, 
than  in  contriving  means  of  vengeance 
upon  one,  who  will  be  sufficiently  pun- 
ished for  his  baseness  by  his  own  con- 
science. Even  if  you  destroy  him,  you 
will  not  add  to  your  own  security,  while 
you  will  commit  a  foul  and  needless  crime, 
equal,  if  not  exceeding  in  atrocity  that  you 
seek  to  punish." 

"  Viviana,"  replied  Fawkes,  in  an  angry 
tone,  "in  an  evil  hour,  I  consented  to  your 
accompanying  me.  I  now  repent  my  ac- 
quiescence. But,  having  passed  my  word, 
I  cannot  retract.  You  waste  lime,  and 
exhaust  my  patience  and  your  own  by 
these  unavailing  supplications.  \\  hen  I 
embarked  in  this  enterprise,  i  embraced 
all  its  dangers,  all  its  crimes  if  you  will, 
and  I  shall  not  shrink  from  thein.  The 
extent  of  Tresham's  treachery  is  not  yet 
known  to  us.  There  may  be — and  God 
(jrant  it! — extenuating  circumstances  in 
his  conduct  that  may  save  his  life.  But, 
as  the  case  stands  at  present,  his  olfence 
appears  of  that  dye  that  nothing  can  wash 
it  out  but  his  blood." 

And  he  turned  to  depart. 

"  When  do  you  expect  this  wretched 
man?"  asked  \  iviana,  arresting  him. 

"  At  niohtfall,"  replied  Fawkes. 

"  Oh!  that  there  were  any  means  of 
warning  him  of  his  danger!"  she  cried. 

"There  are  none,"  rejoined   Fawkes, 


94 


GUY     FAWKES. 


fiercely — "none  tlntyoii  can  adopt.  And 
I  must  lay  my  injunctions  upon  you  not 
to  quit  your  chamber." 

So  sayinfj,  lie  ritired. 

Left  alone,  Viviana  became  a  prey  to 
the  most  ag^onisinff  reflections.  Despite 
the  strong',  and  almost  unaccountable  in- 
terest she  felt  in  Guy  Fawkes,  she  began 
to  repent  the  step  she  had  taken  in  joininff 
him,  as  calculated  to  make  her  a  party  to 
his  criminal  conduct.  But  this  feeling 
was  transient,  and  was  succeeded  by  a 
firmer  determination  to  pursue  the  good 
work  she  had  undertaken. 

"Though  slight  success  has  hitherto 
attended  my  clTorts,"  she  thought;  "that 
is  no  reason  why  I  should  relax  them. 
The  time  is  arrived  when  I  may  exert  a 
beneficial  influence  over  him;  and  it  may 
be,  that  what  occurs  to-night  will  prove 
the  first  step  towards  complete  triumph. 
In  any  case,  nothing  shall  be  wanting  to 
prevent  the  commission  of  the  meditated 
atrocity." 

With  this,  she  knelt  down  and  prayed 
long  and  fervently,  and  arose  confirmed 
and  strengthened  in  her  resolution. 

Meanwhile,  no  alteration  had  taken 
place  in  the  purposes  of  the  conspirators. 
Night  came,  but  with  it  came  not  Tresham. 
Catesby,  who,  up  to  this  time,  had  man- 
aged to  restrain  his  impatience,  now  arose, 
and  signified  his  intention  of  going  in 
search  of  him,  and  was  with  difficuity 
prevented  from  carrying  his  threat  into 
execution  by  Guy  Fawkes,  who  repre- 
sented the  folly  and  risk  of  such  a  course. 

"  If  he  comes  not  before  midnight,  we 
shall  know  what  to  think,  and  how  to 
act,"  he  observed;  "  but  till  then  let  us 
remain  tranquil." 

Keyes  and  the  others  adding  their  per- 
suasions to  those  of  Fawkes,  Catesby  sat 
sullenly  down,  and  a  profound  silence 
ensued.  In  this  way,  some  hours  were 
passed,  when  just  at  the  stroke  of  mid- 
night, Viviana  descended  from  her  room, 
and  appeared  amongst  them.  Her  counte- 
nance was  deatlily  pale,  and  she  looked 
anxiously  around  the  assemblage.  All, 
however,  with  the  exception  of  Fawkes, 
avoided  iier  gaze. 

"  Is  he  come]"  she  exclaimed  atlength. 
"  [  have  listened  intently,  but  have  heard 
nothing.  You  cannot  have  murdered  him. 
And  yet  your  looks  alarm  me.  Father 
Garnet,  answer  me — is  the  deed  done?" 

"No,  daughter,"  replied  Garnet,  stern- 

"Then  he  has  escaped!"  she  cried,  joy- 
fully,    "  You  expected  him  at  nightfall." 

"  It  is  not  yet  too  late,"  replied  Fawkes, 
in  a  sombre  tone;  "  his  death  is  only  de- 
ferred." 

"  Oh!  do  not  say  so,"  she  cried,  in  a 


voice  of  agony.  "  I  hoped  you  had  re- 
lented." 

At  this  moment  a  peculiar  knock  was 
heard  at  the  door.  It  was  thrice  repeated, 
and  the  strokes  vibrated,  though  with  dif- 
ferent effect,  through  every  bosom. 

"  He  is  here,"  cried  Catesby,  rising. 

"Viviana,  go  to  your  chamber,"  com- 
manded Guy  Fawkes,  grasi)ing  her  hand, 
and  leading  her  towards  the  stairs. 

But  she  resisted  his  efl"orts,  and  fell  on 
her  knees. 

"  I  will  not  go,"  she  cried,  in  a  suppli- 
cating tone,  "  unless  you  will  spare  this 
man's  life." 

"  I  have  already  told  yon  my  fixed  de- 
termination," rejoined  Fawkes  fiercely. 
"If  you  will  not  retire  of  your  own  free 
will,  I  must  force  you." 

"If  you  attempt  it,  I  will  scream,  and 
alarm  your  victim,"  she  replied.  "Mr. 
Catesby,"  she  added,  "have  my  prayers, 
my  entreaties  no  weight  with  you?  Will 
you  not  grant  me  his  life?" 

"  No!"  replied  Catesby,  fiercely.  "  She 
must  be  silenced,"  he  added,  with  a  sig- 
nificant look  at  Fawkes. 

"  She  shall,"  replied  the  latter,  drawing 
his  poniard.  "Viviana!"  he  continued, 
in  a  voice,  and  with  a  look  that  left  no 
doubt  as  to  his  intentions,  '•  do  not  com- 
pel me  to  be  your  destroyer." 

As  he  spoke,  the  knocking  was  re- 
peated, and  Viviana  uttered  a  prolonged 
and  piercing  cry.  Guy  Fawkes  raised 
his  weapon,  and  was  about  to  strike,  but 
his  resolution  failed  him,  and  his  arm 
dropped  nerveless  to  his  side. 

"  Your  be'ter  angel  has  conquered!" 
she  cried,  clasping  his  knees. 

While  this  was  passing,  the  door  was 
thrown  open  by  Catesby,  arid  Tresham 
entered  the  room. 

"  What  means  this  outcry?"  he  asked, 
looking  round  in  alarm.  "  Ah!  what  do  I 
see?  Viviana  Radclitfe  here.  Did  she 
utter  the  scream?" 

"She  did,"  replied  Viviana,  rising,  "and 
she  hoped  to  warn  you  by  it.  But  you  were 
led  on  by  your  fate." 

"  Warn  me  from  what?"  ejaculated  Tres- 
ham, starting.     "  I  am  among  friends." 

"  You  are  among  those  who  have  re- 
solved upon  your  death,"  replied  Viviana. 

"  Ah!"  exclaimed  Tresham,  making 
an  effort  to  gain  the  door,  and  draw  his 
sword. 

In  both  attempts,  however,  he  was  foil- 
ed, for  Catesby  intercepted  him,  while 
Fawkes  and  Keyes  flung  themselves  upon 
him,  and  binding  his  arms  together  with  a 
sword-bell,  forced  him  into  a  chair. 

"  Of  what  am  I  accused?"  he  demanded, 
in  a  voice  tremulous  with  rage  and  terror. 

"  You  shall  learn  presently,"  replied 


GUY    FAWKES. 


95 


Catesby.  And  he  motioned  to  Fawkes  to 
remove  Viviana. 

"  Let  me  remain,"  she  cried,  fiercely. 
"  My  nature  is  changed,  and  is  become  as 
savage  as  your  own.  If  blood  must  be 
spilt,  I  will  tarry  to  look  upon  it." 

"  This  is  no  place  for  you,  dear  daugh- 
ter," interposed  Garnet. 

"Nor  for  you  either,  father,"  retorted 
Viviana,  bitterly;  "  unless  you  will  act  as 
a  minister  of  Christ,  and  prevent  this  vio- 
lence." 

"  Let  her  remain,  if  she  will,"  observed 
Catesby.  "  Her  presence  need  not  hinder 
cur  proceedings." 

So  saying,  he  seated  himself  opposite 
Treshani,  while  the  two  priests  placed 
themselves  on  either  side.  Guy  Fawkes 
took  up  a  position  on  the  left  of  the  pris- 
oner, with  his  drawn  dagger  in  his  hand, 
and  Keyes  stationed  himself  near  the  door. 
The  unfortunate  captive  regarded  them 
with  terrified  glances,  and  trembled  in 
every  limb. 

"  Thomas Tresham,"  commenced  Cates- 
by, in  a  stern  voice,  "  you  are  a  sworn 
brother  in  cur  plot.  Before  I  proceed  fur- 
ther, 1  will  ask  you  what  should  be  his 
punishment  who  violates  his  oath,  and  be- 
trays his  confederates'?  We  await  your 
answer]" 

But  Tresham  remained  obstinately  si- 
lent. 

"  I  will  tell  you,  since  you  refuse  to 
speak,"  continued  Catesby.  "  It  is  death 
— death  by  the  hands  of  his  associates." 

"  It  may  be,"  replied  Tresham;  "  but  I 
have  neither  broken  my  oath  nor  betrayed 
you." 

"  Your  letter  to  Lord  Mounteagle  is  in 
my  possession,"  replied  Catesby.  "  Be- 
hold it!" 

"  Perdition!" exclaimed  Tresham.  "But 
you  will  not  slay  me]  I  have  betrayed 
nothing.  I  have  revealed  nothing.  On 
my  soul's  salvation,  I  have  not!  Spare 
me!  spare  me!  and  I  will  be  a  faithful 
friend  in  future.  I  have  been  indiscreet — 
I  own  it — but  nothing  more.  I  have  men- 
tioned no  names.  And  Lord  Mounteagle, 
as  you  well  know,  is  as  zealous  a  Catholic 
as  any  now  present." 

"  Your  letter  has  been  sent  to  the  Earl 
of  Salisbury,"  pursued  Catesby,  coldly. 
"  It  was  from  him  I  obtained  it." 


"Then  Lord  Mounteagle  has  betrayed 
me,"  returned  Tresham,  becoming  pale  as 
death. 

"  Have  you  nothing  further  to  allege]" 
demanded  Catesby.  As  Tresham  made 
no  answer,  he  turned  to  the  others,  and 
said,  "  Is  it  your  judgment  he  should  die]" 

All,  except  Viviana,  answered  in  the 
affirmative. 

"Tresham,"  continued  Catesby,  so- 
lemnly, "prepare  to  meet  your  fate  like  a 
man.  And  do  you,  father,"  he  added  to 
Garnet,  "  proceed  to  shrive  him." 

"  Hold!"  cried  Viviana,  stepping  into 
the  midst  of  them — "  hold!"  she  exclaim- 
ed, in  a  voice  so  authoritative,  and  with  a 
look  so  commanding,  that  the  whole  as- 
semblage was  awe-stricken.  "  If  you 
think  to  commit  this  crime  with  impunity 
you  are  mistaken.  I  swear  by  everything 
sacred,  if  you  take  this  man's  life,  I  will 
go  forth  instantly,  and  denounce  you  all  to 
the  Council.  You  may  stare,  sirs,  and 
threaten  me,  but  you  shall  find  I  will  keep 
my  word." 

"  We  must  put  her  to  death  too," 
observed  Catesby,  in  an  under  tone  to 
Fawkes,  "  or  we  shall  have  a  worse  ene- 
my left  than  Tresham." 

"  I  cannot  consent  to  it,"  replied  Fawkes. 

"  If  you  mistrust  this  person,  why  not 
place  him  in  restraint]"  pursued  Viviana. 
"  You  will  not  mend  matters  by  killing 
him." 

"  She  says  well,"  observed  Garnet;  "  let 
us  put  him  in  some  place  of  security." 

"I  am  agreed,"  replied  Fawkes. 

"  And  I,"  added  Keyes. 

"  My  judgment,  then,  is  overruled,"  re- 
joined Catesby.  "  But  I  will  not  oppose 
you.  We  will  imprison  him  in  the  vault 
beneath  this  chamber." 

"  He  must  be  witliout  light,"  said  Gar- 
net. 

"  And  without  arms,  added  Keyes. 

"  And  without  food,"  muttered  Catesby. 
"  Fie  has  only  exchanged  one  death  for 
another." 

The  flag  was  then  raised,  and  Tresham 
thrust  into  the  vault,  after  which  it  was 
restored  to  its  former  position. 

"  I  have  saved  you  from  the  lesser 
crime,"  cried  Viviana  to  Guy  Fawkes; 
"  and,  with  Heaven's  grace,  I  trust  to 
preserve  you  from  the  greater." 


96 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


CHAPTER  III, 


THE  ESCAPE  PREVENTED. 


ViviANA  having  retired  to  her  chamber, 
apparently  to  rest,  a  lonof  and  anxious  con- 
sultation was  held  by  the  conspirators  as 
to  the  next  steps  to  be  pursued.  Garnet 
was  of  opinion  tiiat,  as  the  Earl  of  Salis- 
bury was  aware  of  a  conspiracy  against 
the  state  being  on  foot  among  the  Catho- 
lics, their  project  ought  to  be  deferred,  if 
not  altogether  abandoned. 

"  We  are  sure  to  be  discovered,"  he 
said.  "Arrests  without  end  will  take 
place.  And  such  rigorous  measures  will 
be  adopted  by  the  earl,  such  inquiries  in- 
stituted, that  all  will  infallibly  be  brought 
to  light.  Besides,  we  know  not  what 
Tresham  may  have  revealed.  He  denies 
having  betrayed  our  secret,  but  no  credit 
can  be  attached  to  his  assertions." 

"  Shall  we  examine  him  again,  father," 
cried  Catesby,  "  and  wring  the  truth  from 
him  by  threats  or  torture"?" 

"No,  my  son,"  replied  Garnet;  "let 
him  remain  where  he  is  till  morning.  A 
night  of  solitary  confinement,  added  to  the 
stings  of  his  own  guilty  conscience,  is 
likely  to  produce  a  stronger  effect  upon 
him  than  any  torments  we  could  inflict. 
He  shall  be  interrogated  strictly  to-mor- 
row, and  I  will  answer  for  it,  will  make 
a  full  confession.  But  even  if  he  has 
revealed  nothing  material,  there  exists 
another  and  equally  serious  ground  of 
alarm.  I  allude  to  your  meeting  with  the 
earl  on  the  river.  I  should  be  the  last  to 
counsel  bloodshed.  But  if  ever  it  could 
be  justified,  it  might  have  been  so  in  this 
case-" 

"  I  would  have  slain  him  if  I  had  had 
my  own  way,"  returned  Catesby,  with  a 
fierce  and  reproachful  look  at  Fawkes. 

"  If  I  have  done  wrong,  I  will  speedily 
repair  my  error,"  observed  the  latter.  "  Do 
you  desire  his  death,  father]  and  will  you 
absolve  me  from  the  deed?"  he  added, 
turning  to  Garnet. 

"  It  is  better  as  it  is,"  replied  Garnet, 
making  a  gesture  in  the  negative.  "  1 
would  not  have  our  high  and  holy  purpose 
stained  by  common  slaughter.  The  Power 
that  delivered  him  into  your  hands,  and 
stayed  them,  no  doubt  preserved  him  for 
the  general  sacrifice.  My  first  fear  was 
lest,  having  noticed  the  barrels  of  powder 
within  the  boat,  he  might  have  suspected 
your  design.  But  I  am  satisfied  his  eyes 
were  blinded,  and  his  reason  benighted,  so 
that  he  could  discern  nothing." 

"  Such  was  my  own  opinion,  father," 
replied   Fawkes.     "  Let  us   observe   the 


utmost  caution,  but  proceed  at  all  hazards 
with  the  enterprise.  If  we  delay,  we  fail." 
"Right,"  returned  Catesby,  "and  for 
that  counsel  I  forgive  you  for  standing  be- 
tween me  and  our  enemy." 

Upon  this,  it  was  agreed  that  if  nothing 
occurred    in    the   interim,    more    powder 
should  be  transported  to  the  habitation  in 
Westminster  on  the  following  night — that 
;  Fawkes  and  Catesby,  who  might  be  re- 
■  cognised  by  Salisbury's  description,  should 
keep  close  house  during  the  day — and  that 
the   rest  of    the   conspirators   should    be 
summoned  to  assist  in  digging  the  mine. 
Prayers  were  then  offered  up  by  the  two 
priests  for  their  preservation   from   peril, 
and  for  success  in  their  enterprise;  after 
i  which,  they  threw  themselves  on  benches 
or  seats,  and  courted  slumber.     All  slept 
soundly  except  Fawkes,  who,  not  being 
I  able  to  close  his  eyes,  from  an  undefinable 
apprehension  of  danger,   arose,  and  cau- 
tiously opening  the  door,  kept  watch  out- 
side. 

I      Shortly  afterwards,  Viviana,  who   had 
'  waited  till  all  was  quiet,  softly  descended 
the  stairs,  and,  shading  her  light,  gazed 
timorously  round.     Satisfied  she  was  not 
I  observed,  she  glided  swiftly  and  noiseless- 
I  ly   to   the   fire-place,   and   endeavored    to 
I  raise  the  flag.     But  it  resisted  all  her  ef- 
forts, and   she  was  about  to  abandon  the 
attempt  in  despair,  when  she  perceived  a 
bolt  on  one  side,   that  had   escaped   her 
notice.     Hastily  withdrawing  it,  she  ex- 
perienced no  further  difficulty.     The  stone 
revolved  on  hinges  like  a  trap-door,  and 
lifting  it,  she  hurried  down  the  steps. 

Alarmed  by  her  approach,  Tresham  had 
retreated  to  the  further  end  of  the  vault, 
and  snatching  up  a  halbert  from  the  pile 
of  weapons,  cried,  in  a  voice  of  despera- 
tion, 

"  Stand  off"!  I  am  armed,  and  have 
severed  my  bonds.  Off",  I  say!  You  shall 
not  take  me  with  life." 

"  Hush!"  cried  Viviana,  putting  her 
finder  to  her  lips,  "  I  am  come  to  set  you 
free." 

"  Do  I  behold  an  inhabitant  of  this 
world?"  cried  Tresham,  crossing  himself, 
and  dropping  the  halbert,  "  or  some  blessed 
saint]  Ah!"  he  exclaimed,  as  she  advanced 
towards  him,  "  it  is  Viviana  Radclifl^e — 
my  preserver.  Pardon,  sweet  lady.  My 
eyes  were  dazzled  by  the  light,  and  your 
sudden  appearance  and  speech — and  I 
might  almost  say  looks — made  me  think 
you  were  some  supernatural  being  come 


GUY     FAWKES. 


97 


to  deliver  me  from  these  bloody-minded 
men.     Where  are  they?" 

"  In  the  room  above,"  she  replied,  in  a 
whisper — "  asleep — and  if  you  speak  so 
loud  you  will  arouse  them." 

"  Let  us  fly  without  a  moment's  delay," 
returned  Tresham  in  the  same  tone,  and 
hastily  picking  up  a  rapier  and  a  dagger. 

"  Stay!"  cried  Viviana,  arresting  him. 
"  Before  you  go,  you  must  tell  me  what 
you  are  about  to  do." 

"We  will  talk  of  that  when  we  are  out 
of  this  accursed  place,"  he  replied. 

"You  shall  not  stir  a  footstep,"  she  re- 
joined, placing  herself  resolutely  between 
him  and  the  outlet,  "  till  you  have  sworn 
neither  to  betray  your  confederates,  nor  to 
do  them  injury." 

"  May  heaven  requite  me,  if  T  forgive 
them!"  cried  Tresham  between  his  ground 
teeth. 

"  Remember! — you  are  yet  in  their 
power,"  she  rejoined.  "  One  word  from 
me,  and  they  are  at  your  side.  Swear! — 
and  swear  solemnly,  or  you  do  not  quit 
this  spot." 

Tresham  gazed  at  her  fiercely,  and 
griped  his  dagger,  as  if  determined  to  free 
himself  at  any  cost. 

"  Ah!"  she  ejaculated,  noticing  the 
movement,  "you  are  indeed  a  traitor. 
You  have  neither  sense  of  honor  nor  grat- 
itude, and  I  leave  you  to  your  fate.  At- 
tempt to  follow  me,  and  I  give  the  alarm." 

"  Forgive  me,  Viviana,"  he  cried,  ab- 
jectly prostrating  himself  at  her  feet,  and 
clinging  to  the  hem  of  her  dress.  "  I 
meant  only  to  terrify  you;  I  would  not  in- 
jure you  for  worlds.  Do  not  leave  me 
with  these  ruthless  cut-throats.  They 
will  assuredly  murder  me.  Do  not  remain 
with  them  yourself,  or  you  will  come  to 
some  dreadful  end.  Fly  with  me,  and  1 
will  place  you  beyond  their  reach — will 
watch  over  your  safety.  Or,  if  you  are 
resolved  to  brave  their  fury  let  me  go,  and 
1  will  take  any  oath  you  propose.  As  1 
hope  for  salvation  I  will  not  betray  them." 

"Peace!"  cried  Viviana,  contemptuous- 
ly. "If  I  set  you  free,  it  is  not  to  save 
you,  but  them." 

"What  mean  youl"  asked  Tresham, 
hesitating. 

"  Question  me  not,  but  follow,  she  re- 
joined, "  and  tread  softly,  as  you  value 
your  life." 

Tresham  needed  no  caution  on  this  head, 
and  as  they  emerged  from  the  trap-door 
in  breathless  silence,  and  he  beiicld  the 
figures  of  his  sleeping  foes,  he  could 
scarcely  muster  sufficient  courage  to  pass 
through  them.  Motioning  him  to  proceed 
quickly,  Viviana  moved  towards  the  door, 
and  to  her  surprise  found  it  unfastened. 
Without  pausing  to  consider  whence  this 


neglect  could  arise,  she  opened  it,  and 
Tresham,  who  trembled  in  every  limb, 
and  walked  upon  the  points  of  his  feet, 
stepped  forth.  As  he  crossed  the  threshold, 
however,  a  powerful  grasp  was  laid  upon 
his  shoulder,  and  a  drawn  sword  presented 
to  his  breast,  while  the  voice  of  Favvkes 
thundered  in  his  ear,  "  Who  goes  there! 
Speak,  or  I  strike." 

While  the  fugitive,  not  daring  to  an- 
swer, lest  his  accents  should  betray  him, 
endeavored  vainly  to  break  away,  Viviana, 
hearing  the  struggle,  threw  open  the  door, 
and  exclaimed,  "It  is  Tresham.  I  set 
him  free." 

"You!"  cried  Fawkes,  in  astonishment. 
"  Whereforel" 

"In  the  hope  that  his  escape  would  in- 
duce you  to  abandon  your  design,  and  seek 
safety  in  flight,"  she  rejoined.  "  But  you 
have  thwarted  my  purpose." 

Fawkes  made  no  reply,  but  thrust  Tres- 
ham forcibly  into  the  house,  and  called  to 
Catesby,  who  by  this  time  had  been  roused 
with  the  others,  to  close  and  bar  the  door. 
The  command  was  instantly  obeyed,  and 
as  Catesby  turned,  a  strange  and  fearful 
group  met  his  view.  In  the  midst  stood 
Tresham,  his  haggard  features  and  palsied 
frame  bespeaking  the  extremity  of  his 
terror.  His  sword  having  been  beaten 
from  his  grasp  by  Fawkes,  and  his  dagger 
wrested  from  him  by  Keyes,  he  was  ut- 
terly defenceless.  Viviana  had  placed 
herself  between  him  and  his  assilants,  and 
screening  him  from  their  attack,  cried, 

"  Despatch  me.  The  fault  is  mine — 
mine  only — and  I  am  ready  to  pay  the 
penalty.  Had  I  not  released  him  he  would 
not  have  attempted  to  escape.  1  am  the 
rightful  victim." 

°"  She  speaks  the  truth,"  gasped  Tres- 
ham. "If  she  had  not  offered  to  liberate 
me,  I  should  never  have  thought  of  flying. 
Would  to  heaven  1  had  never  yielded  to 
her  solicitations!" 

"  Peace,  craven  hound!"  exclaimed 
Fawkes,  furiously,  "you  deserve  to  die 
for  your  meanness  and  ingratitude,  if  nnt 
for  your  treachery.  And  it  is  for  this 
miserable  wretch,  Viviana,"  he  added, 
turning  to  her,  "  that  you  would  have 
placed  your  friends  in  such  fearful  jeopar- 
dy—it is  for  him,  who  would  sacrifice 
you  without  scruple,  to  save  himself,  that 
you  now  offer  your  own  lifi;'?" 

"  I  deserve  your  reproaches,"  she  re- 
joined, in  confusion. 

"  Had  I  not  fortunately  intercepted 
him,"  pursued  Fawkes,  "an  hour  would 
not  have  elapsed  ere  he  would  have  re- 
turned with  the  officers;  and  wc  should 
iiave  changed  this  dwelling  for  a  dungeon 
in  the  Tower — these  benches  for  the 
rack." 
9* 


98 


GUY    FAWKES. 


"In  pity  stab  me!"  cried  Viviana,  fall- 
ing at  ins  feet.  "But  oh!  do  not  wound 
me  with  your  words.  I  have  committed  a 
grievous  wrong;  but  I  was  ignorant  of  the 
consequences;  and,  as  I  hope  for  mercy 
hereafter,  my  sole  motive,  beyond  compas- 
sion for  this  wretched  man,  was  to  terrify 
you  into  relinquishing  your  dreadful  pro- 
ject." 

"  You  have  acted  wrongfully — very 
wrongfully,  Viviana,"  interposed  Garnei; 
"  but  since  you  are  fully  convinced  of 
your  error,  no  more  need  be  said.  There 
are  seasons  when  the  heart  must  be  closed 
against  compassion,  and  when  mercy  be- 
comes injustice.  Go  to  your  chamber, 
and  leave  us  to  deal  with  this  unhappy 
man." 

"To-morrow  you  must  quit  us,"  ob- 
served Fawkes,  as  she  passed  him." 

"  Quit  you!"  she  exclaimed.  "  I  will 
never  offend  again." 

"  I  will  not  trust  you,"  replied  Fawkes, 
"unless — but  it  is  useless  to  impose  re- 
strictions upon  you,  which  you  will  not — 
perhaps,  cannot  observe." 

"  Impose  any  restrictions  you  please," 
replied  Viviana.  "  Cut  do  not  bid  me 
leave  you." 

"  The  time  is  come  when  we  must  sepa- 
rate," rejoined  Fawkes.  "  See  you  not 
that  the  course  we  are  taking  is  slippery 
with  blood,  and  beset  with  perils  which 
the  firmest  of  your  sex  could  not  encoun- 
ter]" 

"  I  will  encounter  them  nevertheless," 
replied  Viviana.  "  Be  merciful,"  she  ad- 
ded, pointing  to  Tresham,  "  and  merc}^ 
shall  be  shown  you  in  your  hour  of  need." 
And  she  slowly  withdrew. 

While  this  was  passing,  Catesby  ad- 
dressed a  few  words  aside  to  Keyes  and 
Oldcorne,  and  now  stepping  forward,  and 
fixing  his  eye  steadily  upon  the  prisoner  to 
note  the  etfect  of  his  speech  upon  him, 
said, 

"  I  have  devised  a  plan  by  which  the 
full  extent  of  Tresham's  treachery  can  be 
ascertained." 

"  You  do  not  mean  to  torture  him,  I 
trust?"  exclaimed  Garnet,  uneasily. 

"  No,  father,"  replied  Catesby.  "  If 
torture  is  inflicted  at  all,  it  will  be  upon 
the  mind,  not  the  body." 

"Then  it  will  be  no  torture,"  observed 
Garnet.     "  State  your  plan,  my  son." 

"It  is  this,"  returned  Catesby.  "He 
shall  write  a  letter  to  Lord  Mounteagle, 
stating  that  he  has  important  revelations 
to  make  to  him,  and  iutreating  him  to 
come  hither  unattended." 

"  Here!"  exclaimed  Fawkes. 

"  Here,"  repeated  Catesby;  and  alone. 
We  will  conceal  ourselves  in  such  manner 
that  we   may   overhear  what  passes   be- 


tween them,  and  if  any  attempt  is  made 
by  the  villain  to  betray  our  presence,  he 
shall  be  immediately  shot.  By  this 
means  we  cannot  fail  to  elicit  the  truth." 

"I  approve  your  plan,  my  son,"  replied 
Garnet,  "  but  who  will  convey  the  letter 
to  Lord  IMounteagle?" 

"  I  will,"  replied  Fawkes.  "  Let  it  be 
prepared  at  once,  and  the  case  will  be 
thought  the  more  urgent.  I  will  watch 
him,  and  see  that  he  comes  unattended,  or 
give  you  timely  warning." 

"  Enough;"  rejoined  Garnet.  "  Let 
writing-materials  be  procured,  and  I  will 
dictate  the  letter." 

Tresham,  meanwhile,  exhibited  no  mis- 
giving; but,  on  the  contrary,  his  counta- 
nance  brightened  up  as  the  plan  was  ap- 
proved. 

"  IMy  life  will  be  spared  if  you  find  I 
have  not  deceived  you,  will  it  not]"  he 
asked,  in  a  supplicating  voice. 

"  Assuredly,"  replied  Garnet. 

"  Give  me  pen  and  ink,  then,"  he  cried, 
"and  I  will  write  whatever  you  desire." 

"  Our  secret  is  safe,"  whispered  Cates- 
by to  Garnet.  "  It  is  useless  to  test  him 
further." 

"  I  think  so,"  replied  Garnet.  "  Would 
we  had  made  this  experiment  sooner!" 

"  Do  not  delay,  I  intreat  you,"  implored 
Tresham.  "I  am  eager  to  prove  my  in- 
nocence." 

"  We  are  satisfied  with  the  proof  we 
have  already  obtained,"  returned  Garnet. 

Tresham  dropped  on  his  knees  in  speech- 
less gratitude. 

"  We  are  spared  the  necessity  of  being 
your  executioner,  my  son,"  pursued  Gar- 
net, "  and  I  rejoice  at  it.  But  I  cannot 
acquit  you  of  the  design  to  betray  us;  and 
till  you  have  unburthened  your  whole 
soul  to  me,  and  proved  by  severe  and  self- 
inflicted  penance  that  you  are  really  peni- 
tent, you  must  remain  a  captive  within 
these  walls." 

"I  will  disguise  nothing  from  yon, 
father,"  replied  Tresham,  "and  will  strive 
to  expiate  my  offence  by  the  severest  pen- 
ance you  choose  to  inflict." 

"  Do  this,  my  son."  rejoined  Garnet; 
"  leave  no  doubt  of  your  sincerity,  and 
you  may  yet  be  restored  to  the  place  you 
have  forfeited,  and  become  a  sharer  in  our 
great  enterprise." 

"  I  will  never  trust  him  more,"  observed 
Fawkes. 

"  Nor  I,"  added  Keyes. 

"/will,"  rejoined  Catesby:  "not  that 
I  have  more  faith  in  him  than  either  of 
you,  but  I  will  so  watch  him  that  he  shall 
not  dare  to  betray  us.  Nay,  more,"  he 
added,  in  an  undertone  to  Garnet,  "I  will 
turn  his  treachery  to  account.  He  will  be 
a  useful  spy  upon  our  enemies." 


"If   he  can  be  relied   on 
Garnet. 

"  After  this,  you  need  have  no  fears," 
rejoined  Catesby,  with  a  significant  smile. 

"  The  first  part  of  your  penance,  my 
son,"  said  Garnet,  addressing  Tresham, 
"shall  be  to  pass  the  night  in  solitary 
vigil  and  prayer  within  the  vault.  Num- 
ber your  transgressions,  and  reflect  upon 
their  enormity.  Consider  not  only  the 
injury  your  conduct  might  have  done  us. 


GUY    FAWKES 

observed 


99 


but  the  holy  church  of  which  you  are  so 
sinful  a  member.  Weigh  over  all  this, 
and  to-morrow  I  will  hear  your  confession; 
when,  if  I  find  you  in  a  state  of  grace,  ab- 
solution shall  not  be  refused." 

Tresham  humbly  bowed  his  head  in 
token  of  acquiescence.  He  was  then  led 
to  the  vault,  and  the  flag  closed  over  him, 
as  before.  This  done,  after  a  brief  conver- 
sation the  others  again  stretched  them- 
selves on  the  floor,  and  sought  repose. 


CHAPTER    IV. 
THE  MINE. 


Some  days  elapsed  before  the  conspira- 
tors ventured  forth  from  their  present 
abode.  They  had  intended  to  remove  the 
rest  of  the  powder  without  loss  of  time, 
but  were  induced  to  defer  their  purpose  on 
the  representations  of  Tresham,  who  stated 
to  Garnet  that  in  his  opinion  they  would 
run  a  great  and  needless  risk.  Before  the 
expiration  of  a  week,  Tresham's  apparent 
remorse  for  his  perfidy,  added  to  his 
seeming  zeal,  had  so  far  reinstated  him  in 
the  confidence  of  his  associates,  that  he 
was  fully  absolved  of  his  offence  by  Gar- 
net; and,  after  taking  fresh  oaths  of  even 
greater  solemnity  than  the  former,  was 
again  admitted  to  the  league.  Catesby, 
however,  who  placed  little  faith  in  his 
protestations,  never  lost  sight  of  him  for 
an  instant,  and,  even  if  he  meditated  an 
escape,  he  had  no  opportunity  of  efl!*ecting 
it. 

A  coldness,  stronger  on  his  side  than 
hers,  seemed  to  have  arisen  between  Vi- 
viana  and  Guy  Fawkes.  Whenever  she 
descended  to  the  lower  room  he  withdrew 
on  some  excuse;  and,  though  he  never 
urged  her  departure  by  words,  his  looks 
plainly  bespoke  that  he  desired  it.  Upon 
one  occasion,  she  found  him  alone — the 
others  being  at  the  time  within  the  vault. 
He  was  whetting  the  point  of  his  dagger, 
and  did  not  hear  her  approach,  until  she 
stood  beside  him.  He  was  slightly  con- 
fused, and  a  deep  ruddy  stain  flushed  his 
swarthy  cheeks  and  brow;  but  he  averted 
his  gaze,  and  continued  his  occupation  in 
silence. 

"  Why  do  you  shun  meV  asked  Vivi- 
ana,  laying  her  hand  gently  upon  his 
shoulder.  And,  as  he  did  not  answer,  she 
repeated  the  question  in  a  broken  voice. — 
Guy  Fawkes  then  looked  up,  and  perceived 
that  her  eyes  were  filled  with  tears. 

"  I  shun  you,  Viviana,  for  two  reasons," 
he  replied  gravely,  but  kindly;  "first,  be- 
cause I  would  have  no  ties  of  sympathy  to 


make  me  cling  to  the  world,  or  care  for  it; 
and  I  feel  that  if  I  suffer  myself  to  be  in- 
terested about  you,  this  will  not  long  be 
the  case :  secondly,  and  chiefly,  because 
you  are  constantly  striving  to  turn  me  from 
my  fixed  purpose;  and,  though  your  eff'orts 
have  been,  and  will  be  unavailing,  yet  I 
would  not  be  exposed  to  them  further." 

"  You  fear  me,  because  you  think  I  shall 
shake  your  resolution,"  she  rejoined,  with 
a  forced  smile.  "  But  I  will  trouble  you 
no  more.  Nay,  if  you  wish  it,  I  will  go." 
"  It  were  better,"  replied  Fawkes,  in 
accents  of  deep  emotion,  and  taking  her 
hand.  "  Painful  as  will  be  the  parting 
with  you,  I  shall  feel  more  easy  when  it  is 
over.  It  grieves  me  to  the  soul  to  see  you 
— the  daughter  of  the  proud,  the  wealthy 
Sir  William  Radcliffe — an  inmate  of  this 
wretched  abode,  surrounded  by  desperate 
men,  whose  actions  you  disapprove,  and 
whose  danger  you  are  compelled  to  share. 
Think  how  it  would  add  to  my  suffering  if 
our  plot — wiiich  Heaven  avert — should  be 
discovered,  and  you  be  involved  in  it."  • 
"Do  not  think  of  it,"  replied  Viviana. 
"  1  caimot  banish  it  from  my  thoughts," 
continued  Fawkes.  "I  cannot  reconcile 
it  to  my  feelings  that  one  so  young,  so 
beautiful,  should  be  thus  treated.  Dwell- 
ing on  tliis  idea  unmans  me — unfits  me  for 
sterner  duties.  The  great  crisis  is  at  hand, 
and  I  must  live  only  for  it." 

"Live  for  it,  then,"  rejoined  Viviana; 
"but  oh!  let  me  remain  with  you  till  the 
blow  is  struck.  Something  tells  me  I  may 
yet  be  useful  to  you — may  save  you." 

"  No  more  of  this,  if  you  would  indeed 
remain,"  rejoined  Guy  Fawkes,  sternly. 
"  Regard  me  as  a  sword  in  the  hand  of 
fate,  which  cannot  be  turned  aside — as  a 
bolt  launched  from  the  cloud,  and  shatter- 
ing all  in  its  course,  which  may  not  be 
stopped — as  something  terrible,  extermi- 
nating, immovable.  Regard  me  as  this, 
and  say  whether  I  am  not  to  be  shunned." 


100 


GUY    FAWKES. 


"  No,"  replied  Viviana;  "  I  am  as  stead- 
fast as  3'ourself.     I  will  remain." 

Guy  Fawkes  g-azed  at  her  in  surprise 
mixed  with  admiration,  and  pressing  her 
hand  affectionately,  said, 

"  I  applaud  your  resolution.  If  I  had 
a  daughter,  I  should  wish  her  to  be  like 
you." 

"  You  promised  to  be  a  father  to  me," 
she  rejoined.  "  How  can  you  be  so  if  I 
leave  you  V 

"  How  can  I  be  so  if  you  stayl"  re- 
turned Fawkes,  mournfully.  "  No;  you 
must  indulge  no  filial  tenderness  for  one  so 
utterly  unable  to  requite  it  as  myself.  Fix 
your  thoughts  wholly  on  heaven.  Pray 
for  the  restoration  of  our  holy  religion — 
for  the  success  of  the  great  enterprise — 
and  haply  your  prayers  may  prevail." 

"I  cannot  pray  for  that,"  she  replied; 
"  for  I  do  not  wish  it  success.  But  1  will 
pra}^ — and  fervently — that  all  danger  may 
be  averted  from  your  head." 

At  this  moment,  Caiesby  and  Keyes 
emerged  from  the  vault,  and  Viviana  hur- 
ried to  her  chamber. 

As  soon  as  it  grew  dark,  the  remaining 
barrels  of  powder  were  brought  out  of  the 
cellar,  and  carefully  placed  in  the  boat. — 
Straw  was  then  heaped  upon  them,  and  the 
whole  covered  with  a  piece  of  tarpaulin, 
as  upon  the  former  occasion.  It  being  ne- 
cessary to  cross  the  river  more  than  once, 
the  conduct  of  the  first  and  most  hazard- 
ous passage  was  intrusted  to  Fawkes,  and, 
accompanied  by  Keyes  and  Bates,  both  of 
whom  were  well  armed,  he  set  out  a  little 
before  midnight.  It  was  a  clear  star-light 
night;  but,  as  the  moon  had  not  yet  risen, 
they  were  under  no  apprehension  of  dis- 
covery. The  few  craft  they  encountered, 
bent  probably  on  some  suspicious  errand 
like  themselves,  paid  no  attention  to  them; 
and  plying  their  oars  swiftly,  they  shot 
under  the  low  parapet  edging  the  gardens 
of  the  Parliament  House,  just  as  the  deep 
bell  of  the  Abbey  tolled  forth  the  hour  of 
twelve.  Keeping  in  the  shade,  they  silently 
approached  the  stairs.  No  one  was  there, 
not  even  a  waterman  to  attend  to  the  nu- 
merous wherries  moored  to  the  steps;  and, 
without  losing  a  moment,  they  sprang 
ashore,  and  concealing  the  barrels  beneath 
their  cloaks,  glided  like  phantoms  sum- 
moned by  the  witching  hour  along  the 
passage  formed  by  two  high  walls,  leading 
to  Old  Palace  Yard,  and  speedily  reached 
the  gate  of  the  habitation.  In  this  way, 
and  with  the  utmost  rapidity,  the  whole  of 
the  fearful  cargo  was  safely  deposited  in 
the  garden;  and  leaving  the  others  to  carry 
it  into  the  house,  Uuy  Fawkes  returned  to 
the  boat.  As  he  was  about  to  push  off', 
two  persons  rushed  to  the  stair-head,  and 
the  foremost  evidently  mistaking  him  for 


a  waterman,  called  to  him  to  take  them 
across  the  river. 

"I  am  no  waterman,  friend,"  replied 
Fawkes;  "and  am  engaged  on  business 
of  my  own.     Seek  a  wherry  elsewhere." 

"  By  heaven!"  exclaimed  the  new- 
comer, in  accents  of  surprise,  "it  is  Guy 
Fawkes.     Do  you  not  know  mel" 

"Can  it  be  Humphrey  Chetham]" 
cried  Fawkes  equally  astonished. 

"It  is,"  replied  the  other.  "This 
meeting  is  most  fortunate.  I  was  in 
search  of  you,  having  somewhat  of  im- 
portance to  communicate  to  Viviana." 

"State  it  quickly,  then,"  returned 
Fawkes;  "  I  cannot  tarry  here  much 
longer." 

"  I  will  go  with  you,"  rejoined  Chetham, 
springing  into  the  boat,  and  followed  by  his 
companion.     "  You  must  take  me  to  her." 

"  Impossible,"  cried  Fawkes,  rising 
angrily,  "neither  can  I  permit  you  to  ac- 
company me.  I  am  busied  about  my  own 
concerns,  and  will  not  be  interru|)texl." 

"At  least,  tell  me  where  I  can  find  Vi- 
viana," persisted  Chetham. 

"Not  now — not  now,"  rejoined  Fawkes, 
impatiently.  "  Meet  me  to-morrow  night, 
at  this  hour,  in  the  Great  Sanctuary,  at 
the  farther  side  of  the  Abbey,  and  you 
shall  learn  all  you  desire  to  know." 

"  Why  not  now'?"  rejoined  ('hetham, 
earnestly.  "You  need  not  fear  me.  I 
am  no  spy,  and  will  reveal  nothing." 

"  But  your  companion?"  hesitated 
Fawkes. 

"It  is  only  Martin  Heydocke,"  an- 
swered Chetham.  "  He  can  keep  a  close 
tongue  as  w-ell  as  iiis  master." 

"  Well,  sit  down,  then,"  returned 
Fawkes,  sullenly.  "There  will  be  less 
risk  in  taking  them  to  Lambeth,"  lie  mut- 
tiired,  "than  in  loitering  here."  And 
rowing  with  great  swit\ness,  he  soon 
gained  the  centre  of  the  stream. 

"  And  so,"  he  observed,  resting  for  a 
moment  on  his  oars,  "you  still  cherish 
your  attachment  to  V' iviana,  I  see.  Nay, 
never  start,  man.  I  am  no  enemy  to  your 
suit,  though  others  may  be.  And  if  she 
would  place  herself  at  my  disposal,  I 
would  give  her  to  you — certain  that  it 
would  be  to  one  upon  whom  her  affections 
are  fixed." 

"Do  you  think  any  change  likely  to 
take  place  in  her  sentiuKnits  towards  me?" 
faltered  Chetham.  "May  I  indulge  a 
hope]" 

"  I  would  not  have  you  despair,"  re- 
plied Fawkes.  "  Because,  as  far  as  I 
have  noticed,  women  are  not  apt  to  adhere 
to  their  resolutions  in  matters  of  the  lieart; 
and  because,  as  I  liave  just  said,  she  loves 
you,  and  1  see  no  reasonable  bar  to  your 
union." 


GUY    FAWKES. 


101 


"You  give  me  new  life,"  cried  Che- 
tham,  transported  with  joy.  "Oh!  that 
you,  who  have  so  much  influence  with  her, 
would  speak  in  my  behalf." 

"  Nay,  you  must  plead  your  own 
cause,"  replied  Fawkes.  "I  cannot  hold 
out  much  hope  at  present,  for  recent  events 
have  cast  a  deep  gloom  over  her  spirit, 
and  she  appears  to  be  a  prey  to  melan- 
choly. Let  this  wear  ofT — and  with  one 
so  young  and  so  firm-minded,  it  is  sure  to 
do  so — and  then  your  suit  may  be  renewed. 
Urge  it  when  you  may,  you  have  my  best 
wishes  for  success,  and  shall  have  my 
warmest  efforts  to  second  you." 

Humphrey  Chetham  murmured  his 
thanks  in  accents  almost  unintelligible 
from  emotion,  and  Guy  Fawkes  continued, 

"  It  would  be  dangerous  for  you  to  dis- 
embark with  me;  but  when  I  put  you 
ashore,  I  will  point  out  the  dwelling  at 
present  occupied  by  Viviana.  You  can 
visit  it  as  early  as  you  please  to-morrow. 
You  will  find  no  one  with  her  but  Father 
Oldcorne,  and  I  need  scarcely  add,  it  will 
gladden  me  to  the  heart  to  find  on  my 
return  that  she  has  yielded  to  your  en- 
treaties." 

"I  cannot  thank  you,"  cried  Chetham, 
warmly  grasping  his  hand;  "but  I  hope 
to  find  some  means  of  evincing  my  grati- 
tude." 

"  Prove  it  by  maintaining  the  strictest 
secrecy  as  to  all  you  may  see  or  hear — or 
even  suspect — within  the  dwelling  you 
are  about  to  visit,"  returned  Guy  Fawkes. 
"Knowing  that  I  am  dealing  with  annan 
of  honor,  I  require  no  stronger  obligation 
than  your  word." 

"You  have  it,"  replied  Chetham,  so- 
lemnly. 

"Your  worship  shall  have  my  oath,  if 
you  desire  it,"  remarked  Martin  Heydocke. 

"No,"  rejoined  Fawkes;  "your  master 
will  answer  for  your  fidelity." 

Shortly  after  this,  Guy  Fawkes  pulled 
ashore,  and  his  companions  landed.  After 
pointing  out  the  solitary  habitation,  which 
possessed  greater  interest  in  Humphrey 
Chetham's  eyes  than  the  proud  structures 
he  had  just  quitted,  and  extracting  a  pro- 
mise that  the  young  merchant  would  not 
approach  it  till  the  morrow,  he  rowed  off, 
and  while  the  others  proceeded  to  Lam- 
beth in  search  of  a  lodging  for  the  night, 
made  the  best  of  his  way  to  the  little 
creek,  and  entered  the  house. 

He  found  the  other  conspirators  anxious- 
ly awaiting  bis  arrival,  and  the  certainty 
afforded  by  his  presence  that  the  powder 
had  been  landed  in  safety  gave  general 
satisfaction.  Preparations  were  immedi- 
ately made  for  another  voyage.  A  large 
supply  of  provisions,  consisting  of  baked 
meat  of  various  kinds,  hard-boiled  eggs. 


pasties,  bread,  and  other  viands,  calculated 
to  serve  for  a  week's  consumption,  without 
the  necessity  of  having  recourse  to  any 
culinary  process,  and,  which  had  been 
previously  procured  with  that  view,  toge- 
ther with  a  few  flasks  of  wine,  occupied 
the  place  in  the  boat  lately  assigned  to  the 
powder.  At  the  risk  of  overloviding  the 
vessel,  they  likewise  increased  its  burthen 
by  a  quantity  of  mining  implements — 
spades,  pickaxes,  augers,  and  wrenching 
irons.  To  these  were  added  as  many 
swords,  calivcrs,  pikes,  and  petronels,  as 
the  space  left  would  accommodate.  Gar- 
net and  Catesby  then  embarked — the  for- 
mer having  taken  an  affectionate  farewell 
of  Viviana,  whom  he  committed,  v/ith  the 
strictest  injunction  to  watch  over  her,  to 
the  care  of  Father  Oldcorne.  Guy  Fawkes 
lingered  for  a  moment,  doubting  whether 
he  should  mention  his  rencounter  with 
Humphrey  Chetham.  He  was  the  more 
undecided  from  the  deep  affliction  in  which 
she  was  plunged.  At  last,  he  determined 
upon  slinfhtly  hinting  at  the  subject,  and 
to  be  guided  as  to  what  he  said  further  by 
the  manner  in  which  the  allusion  was  re- 
ceived. 

"And  you  decide  upon  remaining  here 
till  we  return,  Vivianar'  he  said. 
She  made  a  sign  in  the  affirmative. 
"  And  you  will  see  no  onel" 
"  No  one,"  she  answered. 
"  But,   should   any  old  friend  find   his 
way  hither — Humphrey  Chetham,  for  in- 
stance—will you  not  receive  him"?" 

"  Why  do  you  single  out  hitn  ?"  de- 
manded Viviana,  inquiringly.  "  Is  he  in 
London]     Have  you  seen  him''" 

"  1  have,"  replied  Guy  Fawkes;  "  I  ac- 
cidentally met  him  to-night,  and  have 
shown  him  this  dwelling.  He  will  come 
hither  to-morrow.". 

"  I  wanted  only  this  to  make  me 
thoroughly  wretched,"  cried  Viviana, 
clasping  her  hands  with  anguish.  "  Oh! 
what  unhappy  chance  threw  him  across 
your  path?  Why  did  you  tell  him  I  was 
here?  Why  give  him  a  hope  that  1  would 
see  him]  But  I  will  not.  see  him.  1  will 
quit  this  house  rather  than  be  exposed  to 
the  meeting." 

"  What  means  this  sudden  excitement, 
Viviana]"  cried  Guy  Fawkes,  greatly  sur- 
prised by  her  agitation.  "  Why  should  a 
visit  from  Humphrey  Chetham  occasion 
you  uneasiness!" 

"  1  know  not,"  she  answered,  blushing 
deeply;  "  but  I  will  not  hazard  it." 

"  1  thought  you  superior  to  your  sex," 
rejoined  Fawkes,  "and  should  never  have 
suspected  you  of  waywardness  or  caprice." 
"You  charge  me  with  failings  that  do 
not  belong  to  me,"  she  answered.  "  I  am 
neither   wayward   nor  capricious,    but  I 


102 


GUY    FAWKES. 


would  be  willingly  spared  the  pain  of  an 
interview  with  one  whom  I  thought  I 
loved." 

"Thought  you  loved!"  echoed  Fawkes, 
in  increased  astonishment. 

"  Ay, /ArvHi,)-///,"  repeated  Viviana,  "for 
I  have  since  examined  my  heart,  and  find 
he  has  no  place  in  it." 

"  You  might  be  happy  witli  him,  Vivi- 
ana," rejoined  Fawkes,  reproachfully. 

"  I  might  have  been,"  she  replied,  "  had 
circumstances  favored  our  union.  But  I 
should  not  be  so  now.  Recent  events  iiave 
wrought  an  entire  change  in  my  feelings. 
Were  I  to  abandon  my  resolution  of  retir- 
ing to  a  cloister — were  1  to  return  to  the 
world — and  were  such  an  event  possible 
as  that  Humphrey  Chetham  should  con- 
form to  the  faith  of  Rome — still,  I  would 
not — could  not  wed  him." 

"  I  grieve  to  hear  it,"  replied  Fawkes. 

"Would  ?/';!*  have  me  wed  him?"  she 
cried,  in  a  slightly  mortified  tone. 

"  In  good  sooth  would  1,"  replied 
Fawkes;  "and  I  repeat  my  firm  convic- 
tion you  would  be  happier  witli  him  than 
with  one  more  highly  born,  and  of  less 
real  worth." 

Viviana  made  no  reply,  and  her  head 
declined  upon  her  bosom. 

"You  will  see  him,"  pursued  Fawkes, 
taking  her  hand;  "  if  only  to  tell  him  what 
you  have  just  told  me." 

".Since  you  desire  it,  1  will,"  she  re- 
plied, fixing  a  look  of  melancholy  tender- 
ness upon  him;  "  but  it  will  cost  me  a 
bitter  pang." 

"  I  would  not  tax  you  with  it,  if  I  did 
not  think  it  needful,"  returned  Fawkes. 
"And  now,  farewell." 

"  Farewell — it  may  be,  for  ever,"  re- 
plied Viviana,  sadly. 

"The  boat  is  ready,  and  the  tide  ebb- 
ing," cried  Catesby,  impatiently,  at  the 
door.  "  We  shall  be  aground  if  you  tarry 
longer." 

"  1  come,"  replied  Fawkes.  And,  wav- 
ing an  adieu  to  Viviana,  he  departed. 

"  Strange!"  he  muttered  to  himself,  as 
he  took  liis  way  to  the  creek.  "  I  could 
have  sworn  she  was  in  love  with  Hum- 
phrey Chetham.  Who  can  have  super- 
seded him  in  her  regard?  Not  Catesby, 
of  a  surety.  'Tis  a  perplexing  sex. — 
The  best  are  fickle.  Heaven  be  prais- 
ed !  I  have  long  been  proof  against  their 
wiles." 

Thus  musing,  he  sprang  into  the  skiff, 
and  assisting  Catesby  to  push  it  into  deep 
water,  seized  an  oar,  and  exerted  himself 
stoutly  to  make  up  for  lost  time.  The 
second  voyage  was  as  prosperous  as  the 
first.  A  thick  veil  of  cloud  had  curtained 
the  stars;  the  steps  were  deserted  as  be- 
fore; and  the  provisions,  arms,  and  imple- 


ments, were  securely  conveyed  to  their 
destination. 

Thus  far  fortune  seemed  to  favor  their 
undertaking,  and  Garnet,  falling  on  his 
knees,  offered  up  the  most  fervent  thanks- 
givings. Prayers  over,  they  descended  to 
the  cellar,  and  their  first  care  was  to  seek 
out  a  place  as  free  from  damp  as  possible, 
where  the  powder  could  be  desposited  till 
the  excavation,  which  it  was  foreseen 
would  be  a  work  of  time  and  great  labor, 
was  completed.  A  dry  corner  being  found, 
the  barrels  were  placed  in  it,  and  carefully 
concealed  with  billets  of  wood  and  coals, 
so  as  to  avert  suspicion  in  case  of  search. 
This,  with  other  arrangements,  occupied 
the  greater  part  of  the  night,  and  the  com- 
mencement of  the  important  undertaking 
was  deferred  till  the  morrow,  when  an  in- 
crease of  their  party  was  anticipated. 

Throughout  the  whole  of  the  day  no 
one  stirred  forth.  The  windows  were  kept 
closed;  the  doors  looked;  and,  as  no  fires 
were  lighted,  the  house  had  the  appearance 
of  being  uninhabited.  In  the  course  of 
the  morning  they  underwent  considerable 
alarm.  Some  mischievous  urchins  having 
scaled  the  garden  wall,  one  of  them  fell 
within  it,  and  his  cries  so  terrified  his 
playmates  that  they  dropped  on  the  other 
side,  and  left  him.  The  conspirators  re- 
connoitred the  unhappy  urcliin,  who  con- 
tinued his  vociferations  in  a  loud  key, 
through  the  holes  in  the  shutters,  uncer- 
tain what  to  do,  and  fearing  that  this 
trifling  mischance  might  lead  to  serious 
consequences,  when  the  subject  of  their 
uneasiness  relieved  them  by  scrambling 
up  the  wall  near  the  door,  and  so  effecting 
a  retreat.  With  this  exception,  nothing 
material  occurred  till  evening,  when  their 
expected  associates  arrived. 

The  utmost  caution  was  observed  in 
admitting  them.  The  new-comers  were 
provided  with  a  key  of  the  garden-gate, 
hut  a  signal  was  given  and  repeated  be- 
fore the  house-door  was  opened  by  Bates, 
to  whom  the  office  of  porter  was  intrusted. 
As  soon  as  the  latter  had  satisfied  himself 
that  all  was  right  by  unmasking  a  dark 
lantern,  and  throwing  its  radiance  upon 
the  faces  of  the  elder  Wright,  Rookwood, 
and  Percy,  he  stamped  his  foot  thrice, 
and  the  conspirators  emerged  from  their 
hidinff-places.  A  warm  greeting  passed 
between  the  confederates,  and  they  ad- 
lourned  to  a  lower  chamber,  adjoining  the 
vault,  where  the  sound  of  iheir  voices 
could  not  be  overheard,  and  where,  while 
partaking  of  a  frugal  meal — for  they  de- 
sired to  eke  out  their  store  of  provisions 
as  long  as  possible — they  discoursed  upon 
their  ])lans,  and  all  that  had  occurred  since 
their  last  meeting.  Nothing  was  said  of 
the  treachery  of  Tresham— his  recent  con- 


GUY    FAWKES. 


103 


duct,  as  already  observed,  havinor  been 
such  as  to  restore  him  in  a  great  degree  to 
the  confidence  of  his  companions.  Percy, 
whose  otiice  as  a  gentleman  pensioner 
gave  him  the  best  opportunites  of  hearing 
court-whispers  and  secrets,  informed  them 
it  was  rumored  that  the  Earl  of  Salisbury 
had  obtained  a  clue  to  some  Catholic  plot, 
whether  their  own  he  could  not  say;  but 
it  would  seem  from  all  that  could  be 
gathered,  that  his  endeavors  to  trace  it  out 
had  been  frustrated. 

"Where  is  Lord  Mounteagler'  de- 
manded Catesby. 

"  At  his  mansion  near  Hoxton,"  replied 
Percy. 

"  Have  you  observed  him  much  about 
the  court  of  late,  or  with  the  Earl  of  Salis- 
bury'?" pursued  Catesby. 

"No,"  replied  Percy.  "Yet  now,  I 
bethink  me,  I  did  observe  them  together, 
and  in  earnest  conversation  about  a  week 
ago.  But  Lord  Mounteagle  knows  no- 
thing of  our  plot." 

"  Hum!"  exclaimed  Catesby,  shrugging 
his  shoulders,  while  significant  looks  were 
exchanged  by  the  others,  and  Tresham 
hung  his  head.  "Lord  Mounteagle  may 
not  know  that  you  or  I,  or  Fawkes,  or 
Rookwood,  are  conspiring  against  the 
state,  but  he  knows  that  a  plot  is  hatching 
amongst  our  party.  It  is  from  him  that 
the  Earl  of  Salisbury  derived  his  informa- 
tion." 

"  Amazement!"  exclaimed  Percy. 

"A  good  Catholic,  and  betray  his  fel- 
lows!" cried  Rookwood.  "This  passes 
my  comprehension.     Are  you  sure  of  it?" 

"Unhappily  we  are  so,  my  son,"  re- 
plied Garnet  gravely. 

"We  will  speak  of  this  hereafter,"  in- 
terposed Catesby.  "  1  have  a  plan  to  get 
his  lordshij)  into  our  power,  and  make  him 
serve  our  purposes  in  spite  of  himself. 
We  will  outwit  the  crafty  Salisbury. 
Can  any  one  tell  if  Tresham's  sudden 
disappearance  has  been  noticed?" 

"liis  household  report  that  he  is  on  a 
visit  to  Sir  Everard  Digby,  at  Gothurst," 
replied  Rookwood.  "  1  called  at  his  resi- 
dence yesterday,  and  was  informed  that  a 
letter  had  just  been  received  from  him 
dated  from  that  place.  His  departure, 
they  said,  was  sudden,  but  his  letter  fully 
accounted  for  it." 

".  The  messenger  who  bore  that  letter 
had  only  to  travel  from  Lambeth,"  ob- 
served (Jatesby,  smiling. 

"So  I  conclude,"  returned  Rookwood. 

"  And,  now  that  our  meal  is  ended,  let 
us  to  work,"  cried  Fawkes,  who  had  taken 
no  part  in  the  foregoing  conversation.  "I 
will  strike  the  first  blow,"  he  added,  rising 
and  seizing  a  mattock. 

"  Hold,  my   son!"  exclaimed   Garnet, 


arresting  him.  "The  work  upon  which 
the  redemption  of  our  holy  church  han<Ts 
must  be  commenced  with  due  solemnity." 
"  You  are  right,  father,"  replied  Fawkes, 
humbly. 

Headed  by  Garnet,  bearing  a  crucifix, 
they  then  repaired  to  the  vault.  A  silver 
chalice,  filled  with  holy  water,  was  carried 
by  Fawkes,  and  two  lighted  tapers  by 
Catesby.  Kneeling  down  before  that  part 
of  the  wall  against  which  operations  were  ^ 
about  to  be  directed,  and  holding  the  cru- 
cifix towards  it.  Garnet  commenced  pray- 
ing in  a  low  but  earnest  tone,  gradually 
raising  his  voice,  and  increasing  in  fervor 
as  he  proceeded.  The  others  knelt  around 
him,  and  the  whole  formed  a  strange  and 
deeply-interesting  group.  The  vauft  itself 
harmonized  with  its  occupants.  It  was  of 
great  antiquity;  and  its  solid  stone  masonry 
had  acquired  a  timeworn,  hoary  tint.  In 
width  it  was  about  nine  feet,  and  of  cor- 
responding height,  supported  by  a  semicir- 
cular arch,  and  its  length  was  more  than 
twenty  feet. 

The  countenances  of  the  conspirators 
showed  that  they  were  powerfully  inoved 
by  what  was  passing;  but  next  to  Garnet, 
Guy  Fawkes  exhibited  the  greatest  enthu- 
siasm. His  extatic  looks  and  gestures 
evinced  the  strong  eflfect  produced  upon 
his  superstitious  character  by  the  scene. 
Garnet  concluded  his  prayer  as  follows: — • 

"Thus  far,  O  Lord,  we  have  toiled  in 
darkness  and  in  difficulty;  but  we  have 
now  arrived  at  a  point  where  all  thy  sup- 
port is  needed.  Do  not  desert  us,  we  be- 
seech thee,  but  let  thy  light  guide  us 
through  these  gloomy  paths.  Nerve  our 
arms — sharpen  our  weapons — and  crumble 
these  hard  and  flinty  stones,  so  that  they 
may  yield  to  our  elforts.  Aid  our  enter- 
prise, if  thou  approvest  it,  and  it  be  really, 
as  in  our  ignorance  we  believe  it  to  be,  for 
the  welfare  of  thy  holy  Church,  and  the 
confusion  of  its  enemies.  Bear  witness, 
O  Lord,  that  we  devote  ourselves  wholl)'^ 
and  entirely  to  this  one  end — and  that  we 
implore  success  only  for  thy  glory  and 
honor." 

With  this  he  arose,  and  the  following 
strains  were  cliaunted  by  the  whole  assem- 
blage:— 

HYMN  OF  THE  CONSPIRATORS. 

Tlic  heretic  .ind  lieatben,  Lord, 
C^oiisuiiie  with  fire,  cut  down  with  sword; 
The  spoilers  I'rom  tiiy  temples  thrust, 
'I'hcir  altars  trample  in  liic  dust. 

False  princes  and  false  priests  lay  low, 
Their  habitatinns  fill  with  woe. 
Scalier  them,  Lord,  with  sword  and  llainc. 
And  bring  them  utterly  to  shame. 


104 


GUY    FAWKES. 


Thy  vcntreful  arm  no  lonqfcr  slay, 
Arisel  ixtcniiinatc,  and  sliiy. 
So  sliLill  thy  fallen  vvorsliip  be 
Restored  to  its  prosperity! 

This  hymn  raised  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
conspirators  to  the  highest  pitch,  and  such 
was  the  eirect  produced  by  it,  as  it  rolled 
in  sullen  echoes  along  the  arched  roof  of 
the  vault,  that  several  of  them  drew  their 
svvortls,  and  crossed  the  blades,  with  looks 
of  the  most  determined  devotion  to  their 
cause.  When  it  was  ended.  Garnet  re- 
cited other  prayers,  and  sprinkled  holy 
water  upon  the  wall,  and  upon  every  im- 
plement about  to  be  used,  bestowing  a 
separate  lionediction  on  each.  As  he  de- 
livered the  pick-axe  to  Guy  Fawkes,  he 
cried  in  a  solemn  voice, 

"  Strike,  my  son,  in  the  name  of  the 
Most  High,  and  in  behalf  of  our  holy  re- 
ligion— strike!" 

Guy  Fawkes  raised  the  weapon,  and 
stimulated  by  excitement,  threw  the  whole 
strength  of  his  arm  into  the  blow.  A  large 
piece  of  the  granite  was  chipped  off,  but  the 
mattock  snapped  in  twain.  Guy  Fawkes 
looked  deeply  disconcerted,  and  Garnet, 
though  he  concealed  his  emotion,  was  fill- 
ed with  dismay. 

"  Let  me  take  your  place,"  cried  Keyes, 
advancing,  as  Guy  Fawkes  retired. 

Keyes  was  a  powerful  man,  and  exert- 
ing his  energies,  he  buried  the  point  of 
the  pick-axe  so  deeply  in  the  mortar,  that 
he  could  not  remove  it  unassisted.  These 
untoward  circumstances  cast  a  slightdamp 
upon  their  ardor;  but  Catesby,  who  per- 
ceived it,  went  more  cautiously  to  work, 
and  in  a  short  time  succeeded  with  great 
labor  in  getting  out  the  large  stone,  upon 
which  the  others  had  expended  so  much 
useless  exertion.  The  sight  restored  their 
confidence,  and  as  many  as  could  work  in 
the  narrow  space  joined  him.  But  they 
found  that  their  task  was  much  more  ar- 
duous than  they  had  anticipated.  More 
than  an  hour  elapsed  before  they  could 
loosen  another  stone,  and  though  they  la- 
bored with  the  utmost  perseverance,  re- 
lieving each  other  by  turns,  they  had  made 
but  a  small  breach  when  morning  arrived. 
The  stones  were  as  hard  and  unyielding  as 
iron,  and  the  mortar  in  some  places  harder 
than  the  stones. 

After  a  few  hours  rest,  they  resumed 
their  task.  Still,  they  made  but  small  pro- 
gress; and  it  was  not  until  the  third  day  that 
they  had  excavated  a  hole  sufficiently  wide 


and  deep  to  admit  one  man  within  it.  They 
were  now  arrived  at  a  compost  of  gravel 
and  flint  stones;  and  if  the)"-  had  found  their 
previous  task  difficult,  what  they  had  now 
to  encounter  was  infinitely  more  so.  Their 
implements  made  little  or  no  impression 
on  this  unyielding  substance,  and  though 
they  toiled  incessantly,  the  work  proceeded 
with  disheartening  slowness.  The  stones 
and  rubbish  wore  conveyed  at  dead  of  night 
in  hampers  into  the  garden  and  buried. 

One  night,  when  they  were  laboring  as 
usual,  Guy  Fawkes,  who  was  foremost  in 
the  excavation,  thought  he  heard  the  toll- 
ing of  a  bell  within  the  wall.  He  instantly 
suspended  his  task,  and  being  convinced 
that  he  was  not  deceived,  crept  out  of  the 
hole,  and  made  a  sign  to  the  others  to  lis- 
ten. Each  had  heard  the  awful  sound  be- 
fore; but  as  it  was  partially  drowned  by 
the  noise  of  the  pick-axe,  it  had  not  pro- 
duced much  impression  upon  them,  as  they 
attributed  it  to  some  vibration  in  the  wall, 
caused  by  tlie  echo  of  the  blows.  But  it 
was  now  distinctly  audible — deep,  clear, 
slow — like  a  passing  bell — but  so  solemn, 
so  unearthly,  that  its  tones  froze  the  blood 
in  their  veins. 

They  listened  for  a  while  in  speechless 
astonishment,  scarcely  daring  to  look  at 
each  other,  and  expecting  each  moment 
that  the  building  would  fall  upon  them, 
and  bury  them  alive.  The  light  of  a  sin- 
gle lantern  placed  upon  an  upturned  bas- 
ket fell  upon  figures  rigid  as  statues,  and 
countenances  charged  with  awe. 

"My  arm  is  paralysed,"  said  Guy 
Fawkes,  breaking  silence;  "  I  can  work 
no  more." 

"  Try  holy  water,  father,"  cried  Cates- 
by. "  If  it  proceeds  from  aught  of  evil, 
that  will  quell  it." 

The  chalice  containing  the  sacred  lymph 
was  brought,  and  pronouncing  a  solemn 
exorcism,  Garnet  sprinkled  the  w'all. 
The  sound  immediately  ceased. 
"  It  is  as  I  thought,  father,"  observed 
Catesby;  "  it  is  the  delusion  of  an  evil 
spirit." 

As  he  spoke,  the  tolling  of  the  myste- 
rious bell  was  again  heard,  and  more  so- 
lemnly— more  slowly  than  before. 

"  Sprinkle  the  wall  again,  in  heaven's 
name,  father,"  cried  Fawkes,  crossing 
himself  devoutly.  "  Avoid  thee,  Satha- 
nas!" 

Garnet  complied,  and  throwing  holy 
water  upon  the  stones  the  same  result  fol- 
lowed. 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


105 


CHAPTER   V. 


THE  CAPTURE  OF  VIVIANA. 


On  the  morninir  after  his  encounter  with 
Guy  Favvkes,  Humphrey  Chetham,  ac- 
companied by  Martin  Heydocke,  took  his 
way  to  Lambeth  Marsh.  With  a  throb- 
bing heart  he  approached  the  miserable 
dwelling  he  knew  to  be  inhabited  by  Vivi- 
ana,  and  could  scarcely  summon  courajje 
to  knock  at  the  door.  His  first  summons 
not  beintr  answered,  he  repeated  it  more 
loudly,  and  he  then  perceived  the  face  of 
Father  Oldcorne  at  the  window,  who, 
having  satisfied  himself  that  it  was  a 
friend,  admitted  him  and  his  attendant. 

"  You  were  expected,  my  son,"  said  the 
priest,  after  a  friendly  greeting.  "  Guy 
Fawkes  has  prepared  Viviana  for  your 
coming." 

"  Will  she  not  see  niel"  demanded  the 
young  merchant,  uneasily. 

"  1  believe  so,"  replied  Oldcorne.  "  But 
I  will  apprise  her  of  your  arrival.  Be 
seated,  my  son." 

He  then  carefully  fastened  the  door,  and 
repaired  to  Viviana's  chamber,  leaving 
Chetham  in  that  state  of  tremor  and  anxiety 
which  a  lover,  hoping  to  behold  his  mis- 
tress, only  knows. 

It  was  some  time  before  Viviana  ap- 
peared, and  the  young  merchant,  whose 
heart  beat  violently  at  the  sound  of  her 
footstep,  was  startled  by  the  alteration  in 
her  looks,  and  the  extreme  coldness  of  her 
manner.  Oldcorne  was  with  her,  and 
motioning  Martin  Heydocke  to  follow  him, 
the  youthful  pair  were  left  alone. 

"  You  desire  to  see  me,  I  am  given  to 
understand,  sir,"  observed  Viviana,  in  a 
freezing  tone. 

"  I  have  journeyed  to  London  for  that 
express  purpose,"  replied  Humpiirey  Chet- 
ham, tremulously. 

"  1  am  nuich  beholden  to  you,  sir,"  re- 
turned Viviana,  in  the  same  re()clling  tone 
as  before;  "  but  1  regret  you  should  have 
taken  so  much  trouble  on  my  account." 

"  'J'o  serve  you  is  happiness,  not  trouble, 
Viviana,"  replied  Humphrey  Chetham, 
ardently;  "and  1  am  overjoyed  at  finding 
an  opportunity  of  proving  my  devotion." 

"  1  have  yet  to  learn  what  service  1  must 
thank  you  for,"  she  returned. 

"1  can  scarcely  say  that  1  am  warranted 
in  thus  intruding  upon  you,"  replied  Chet- 
ham, greatly  abashed;  "  but,  having  learnt 
from  my  servant,  Martin  Heydocke,  that 
Doctor  Dee  had  set  out  for  London,  with 
the  view  of  seeking  you  out,  and  with- 
drawing you  from  your  present  associates, 
I  was  determined  to  be  beforehand  with 

10 


him,  and  to  acquaint  you,  if  possible,  with 
his  intentions." 

"  What  you  say  surprises  me,"  replied 
Viviana.  "  Doctor  Dee  has  no  right  to 
interfere  with  my  actions.  Nor  should  I 
obey  him  were  he  to  counsel  me,  as  is 
scarcely  probable,  to  quit  my  compan- 
ions." 

"  I  know  not  what  connection  there  may 
be  between  you  to  justify  the  interposi- 
tion of  his  authority,"  replied  Chetham; 
"  neither  did  I  tarry  to  inquire.  But,  pre- 
suming from  what  I  heard,  that  he  would 
attempt  to  exercise  some  control  over  you, 
I  set  out  at  once,  and,  without  guide  to 
your  retreat,  or  the  slightest  knowledge  of 
it,  was  fortunate  enough,  on  the  very  night 
of  my  arrival  in  London,  to  chance  upon 
Guy  Fawkes,  who  directed  me  to  you." 

"lam  aware  of  it,"  was  the  chilling 
answer. 

"  I  will  not  avouch,"  pursued  Chetham, 
passionately,  "  that  I  have  not  been  ac- 
tuated as  much  by  an  irrepressible  desire 
to  see  you  again,  as  by  anxiety  to  apprise 
you  of  Doctor  Dee's  coming.  I  wanted 
only  a  slight  excuse  to  myself  to  induce 
me  to  yield  to  my  inclinations.  Your  de- 
parture made  me  wretched.  I  thought  I 
had  more  control  over  myself.  But  1  find 
I  cannot  live  without  you." 

"Alas!  alas!"  cried  Viviana,  in  a  troubled 
tone,  and  losing  all  her  self-command.  "  I 
expected  this.   Why — why  did  you  come]" 

"  I  have  told  you  my  motive,"  replied 
Chetham;  "  but,  oh!  do  not  reproach  me!" 

"I  do  not  desire  to  do  so,"  returned 
Viviana,  with  a  look  of  agony.  "  1  bitter- 
ly reproach  myself  that  I  cannot  meet  you 
as  of  old.  But  I  would  rather — far  rather 
iiave encountered  Doctor  Dee,  had  become 
hither  resolved  to  exert  all  his  magical 
])ower  to  force  me  away,  than  have  met 
you." 

"  Have  I  unwittingly  offended  you, 
Viviana?"  asked  Chetham,  in  astonish- 
ment. 

"Oh!  no — no — no!"  she  replied,  "you 
have  not  olfended  me;  but " 

"  But  what?"  he  cried,  anxiously. 

"  1  would  rather  have  died  tiian  see 
you,"  sh  )  answered. 

"  I  will  not  inquire  wherefore,"  rejoined 
Chetham,  "  i)ecause  1  too  well  divine  the 
cause.  1  am  no  longer  what  1  was  to 
you." 

"  Press  this  matter  no  further,  I  pray  of 
you,"  returned  Viviana,  in  much  con- 
fusion,  and   blushing  deeply.      "  I    shall 


106 


GUY    F  A  W  K  E  S. 


ever  esteem  you — ever  feel  the  warmest 
gratitude  to  you.  And  what  matters  it 
whether  my  heart  is  estrano-ed  from  you 
or  not,  since  I  can  never  wed  you'?" 

"  What  matters  it?"  repeated  the  young 
merchant  in  accents  of  despair — "  it  mat- 
ters much.  Drowning  love  will  cling  to 
straws.  'I'lie  thought  that  I  was  heloved 
by  you,  tliough  I  could  never  hope  to  pos- 
sess your  hand,  reconciled  me  in  some 
degree  to  my  fate.  But  now,"  he  added, 
covering  his  face  with  his  hands — "now 
my  heart  is  crushed," 

"  Nay,  say  not  so,"  cried  Viviana,  in  a 
voice  of  the  deepest  emotion.  "  1  do  love 
you — as  a  sister." 

"  Tliat  is  small  comfort,"  rejoined 
Chetham,  bitterly.  "I  echo  j'our  own 
wish.  Would  we  had  never  met  again! 
I  might,  at  least,  have  deluded  myself  into 
the  belief  that  you  loved  me." 

"It  would  have  been  better  so,"  she 
returned.  "  I  would  inflict  pain  on  no 
one — far  less  on  you,  whom  1  regard  so 
much,  and  to  whom  I  owe  so  much." 

"You  owe  me  nothing,  Viviana,"  re- 
joined Chetham.  "  All  I  desired  was  to 
serve  you.  In  the  midst  of  the  dangers 
we  have  shared  together,  I  felt  no  alarm 
except  for  your  sake.  1  have  done  nothing 
— nothing.     Would  I  had  died  for  you!" 

"Calm  yourself,  sir,  I  entreat,"  she 
returned. 

"You  did  love  me  once?"  demanded 
Chetham,  suddenly. 

"  I  thought  so,"  she  answered. 

The  young  merchant  uttered  an  excla- 
mation of  anguish,  and  a  mournful  pause 
ensued,  broken  only  by  his  groans. 

"Answer  me,  Viviana,"  he  said,  turn- 
ing abruptly  upon  her — "  answer  me,  and, 
in  mercy,  answer  truly — do  you  love 
another?" 

"It  is  a  question  I  cannot  answer,"  she 
replied,  becoming  ashy  pale. 

"  Your  looks  speak  for  you!"  he  vocife- 
rated, in  a  terrible  tone — "you  do!  His 
name] —  his  name"?  that  I  may  wreak  my 
vengeance  upon  him." 

"  Your  violence  terrifies  me,"  returned 
Viviana,  withdrawing  the  hand  he  had 
seized.  "1  nmst  put  an  end  to  this  inter- 
view." 

"  Pardon  me,  Viviana!"  cried  Chetham, 
falling  on  his  knees  before  her — "in  pity 
pardon  me!  I  am  not  myself.  I  shall  be 
calmer  presently.  Uut  if  you  knew  the 
anguish  of  the  wound  you  have  inflicted, 
you  would  not  add  to  it." 

"  Heaven  knows  I  would  not!"  she  re- 
turned, motioning  him  to  rise.  "And,  if 
it  will  liglitcn  your  sufliering,  know  that 
the  love  I  feel  for  another — if  love,  indeed, 
it  be — is  as  hopeless  as  your  own.  But 
it  is  not  a  love  of  which  even  you  could  be 


jealous.  It  is  a  higher  and  a  holier  pas- 
sion. It  is  afl^ection  mixed  with  admira- 
tion, and  purified  from  all  its  grossness. 
It  is  more,  perhaps,  than  the  love  of  a 
daughter  for  her  father — but  it  is  nothing 
more.  I  shall  never  wed  him  1  love — 
could  not  if  I  would.  Nay,  I  would  shun 
him,  if  I  did  not  feel,  that  the  hour  will 
soon  come  when  the  extent  of  my  afl"ection 
must  be  proved." 

"This  is  strange  sophistry,"  returned 
Chetham;  "  and  you  may  deceive  yourself 
by  It,  but  you  cannot  deceive  me.  You 
love  as  all  ardent  natures  do  love.  But  in 
what  way  do  you  mean  to  prove  your 
afljection]" 

"  Perhaps,  by  the  sacrifice  of  my  life," 
she  answered. 

"I  can  tell  you  who  is  the  object  of 
your  atfections!"  said  Chetham.  "  It  is 
Guy  F'awkes." 

"  I  will  not  deny  it,"  replied  Viviana; 
"he  is." 

"Hear  me,  then,"  exclaiined  Chetham, 
who  appeared  inexpressibly  relieved  by 
the  discovery  he  had  made;  "  in  my  pas- 
sage across  the  river  with  him  last  night, 
our  conversation  turned  on  the  one  subject 
ever  nearest  my  heart,  yourself — and  Guy 
P'awkes  not  only  bade  me  not  despair,,  but 
promised  to  aid  my  suit." 

"  And  he  kept  his  word,"  replied  Vivi- 
ana, "fur,  while  announcing  your  proposed 
visit,  he  urged  me  strongly  in  your  be- 
half." 

"'J'hen  he  knows  not  of  your  love  for 
him?"  demanded  Chetham. 

"  He  not  only  knows  it  not,  l)ut  never 
shall  know  it  from  me — nor  must  he  know 
it  from  you,  sir,"  rejoined  Viviana,  ener- 
getically. 

"  Fear  it  not,"  said  Chetham,  sighing. 
"It  is  a  secret  I  shall  carefully  preserve." 

"And  now  th&t  you  are  in  possession  of 
it,"  she  answered,  "I  no  longer  feel  your 
presence  as  a  restraint.  Let  me  still  re- 
gard you  as  a  friend." 

"  Be  it  so,"  replied  Humphrey  Chetham, 
mournfull}';  "and  as  a  friend  let  me  entreat 
you  to  quit  this  place,  and  abandon  your 
present  associates.  I  will  not  seek  to 
turn  your  heart  from  Fawkes — nor  will  I 
try  to  regain  the  love  I  have  lost.  But 
let  me  implore  you  to  pause  ere  you  irre- 
trievably mix  yourself  up  with  the  fortunes 
of  one  so  desperate.  I  am  too  well  aware 
that  he  is  engaged  in  a  fearful  plot  against 
the  state — though  I  know  not  its  precise 
nature." 

"  You  will  not  betray  him?"  she  cried. 

"  I  will  not,  though  he  is  my  rival," 
returned  Chetham.  "But  others  may — 
nay,  perhaps  have  done  so  already." 

"  Whom  do  you  suspect?"  demanded 
Viviana,  in  the  greatest  alarm. 


GUY    F  A  W  K  E  S. 


107 


*'T  fear  Doctor  Dee,"  replied  the  young 
merchant;  "  but  I  know  nothing  certainly. 
My  servant,  Martin  Heydocke,  who  is  in 
the  Doctor's  confidence,  intimated  as  much 
to  me,  and  I  have  reason  to  think  tiiat  his 
journey  to  town,  under  the  pretext  of 
searching  for  you,  is  undertaken  for  tlie 
purpose  of  tracing  out  tlie  conspirators, 
and  delivering  them  to  the  government." 
"Is  he  arrived  in  London]"  inquired 
Viviana,  eagerly. 

"  I  should  think  not,"  returned  Che- 
tham.  "  I  passed  him,  four  days  ago,  on 
this  side  Leicester,  in  company  with  Kelley 
and  Topclifle." 

"  If  the  wretch,  TopclitTe,  was  with 
him,  your  conjectures  are  too  well  found- 
ed," she  replied.  "I  must  warn  Guy 
Fawkes  instantly  of  his  danger." 

"  Command  my  services  in  any  way," 
said  Chetham. 

"  I  know  not  what  to  do,"  cried  Vivi- 
ana, after  a  pause,  during  which  she  be- 
trayed the  greatest  agitation.  "  I  dare  not 
seek  him  oul; — and  yet,  if  I  do  not,  he 
may  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  I 
must  see  him  at  all  hazards." 

"  Suffer  me  to  go  with  you,"  implored 
Chetham.  "  You  may  rely  upon  my  se- 
crecy. And  now  I  have  a  double  motive 
for  desiring  to  preserve  Fawkes." 

"You  are,  indeed,  truly  noble-hearted 
and  generous,"  replied  Viviana;  "  and  I 
would  fully  confide  in  you.  But,  if  you 
were  to  be  seen  by  the  others,  you  would  be 
certainly  put  to  death.  Not  even  Fawkes 
could  save  you." 

"  I  will  risk  it,  if  you  desire  it,  and  it 
will  save  /u'm,"  replied  the  young  mer- 
chant, devotedly.  "  Nay,  I  will  go 
alone." 

"  That  were  to  insure  your  destruction," 
she  answered.  "  No — no — it  must  not 
be.  I  will  consult  with  Father  Oldcorne." 
With  tiiis,  she  hurried  out  of  the  room, 
and  returned  in  a  short  lirne  with  the 
priest.  ' 

"  Father  Oldcorne  is  of  opinion  that  our 
friends  must  be  apprised  of  their  danger," 
she  said.  "  And  he  thinks  it  needful  we 
should  both  go  to  their  retreat,  that  no 
hindrance  may  be  offered  to  our  flight,  in 
case  such  a  measure  should  be  resolved 
upon." 

"  You  cannot  accompany  us,  my  son," 
added  Oldcorne,  "for  though  I  am  as  fully 
assured  of  your  fidelity  as  Viviana,  and 
would  confide  my  life  to  you,  tiiere  are 
those  who  will  not  so  trust  you,  and  who 
might  rejoice  in  the  opportunity  of  remov- 
ing you." 

"  V'iviana!"  exclaimed  Chetham,  look- 
ing intreatingly  at  her. 

"  For  my  sake — if  not  for  your  own — 
do  not  urge  this  further,"  she  returned. — 


"There  are  already  dangers  and  difficul- 
ties enow  without  adding  to  them.  You 
would  be  safer  amid  a  horde  of  robbers 
than  amidst  tiiese  men." 

"And  it  is  to  such  persons  you  commit 
yourself?"  cried  (Chetham,  reproachfully. 
"  Oh!  be  warned  by  me,  ere  it  is  too  late! 
Abandon  them!" 

"  It  is  too  late  already,"  replied  Viviana. 
"The  die  is  cast." 

"  Then  I  can  only  lament  it,"  returned 
Chetham,  sadly.  "  Suffer  me,  at  least,  to 
accompany  you  to  some  place  near  their 
retreat,  that  you  may  summon  me  in  case 
of  need." 

"  There  can  be  no  objection  to  that, 
Viviana,"  observed  Oldcorne;  "provided 
Humphrey  Chetham  will  promise  not  to 
follow  us." 

"  Readily,"  replied  the  young  merchant. 
"I  am  unwilling  to  expose  him  to  fur- 
ther risk  on  my  account,"  said  Viviana. 
"  But  be  it  as  you  will." 

It  was  then  agreed,  that  they  should  not 
set  out  till  nightfall,  but  proceed,  as  soon 
as  it  grew  dark,  to  Lambeth,  where  Hum- 
phrey Chetham  undertook  to  procure  a 
boat  for  their  conveyance  across  the  river. 
The  hour  of  departure  at  length  arrived. 
Viviana,  who  had  withdrawn  to  her  own 
room,  appeared  in  her  travelling  habit,  and 
was  about  to  set  forthwith  her  companions, 
when  they  were  all  startled  by  a  sudden 
and  loud  knocking  at  the  dnor. 

"  V^e  are  discovered,"  she  cried.  "  Dr. 
Dee  has  found  out  our  retreat." 

"  Fear  nothing,"  rejoined  Chetham, 
drawing  his  sword,  while  his  example  was 
imitated  by  Martin  Heydocke;  "  they  shall 
not  capture  you  while  I  live." 

As  he  spoke,  the  knocking  was  repeated, 
and  the  door  shaken  so  violently  as  to 
threaten  to  burst  its  fastenings. 

"  Extinguish  the  light,"  whispered  Che- 
tham, "  and  let  Father  Oldcorne  conceal 
liimself.     We  have  nothing  to  fear." 

"  Where  shall  I  ffyl"  cried  Oldcorne, 
despairingly.  "It  will  be  impossible  to 
raise  iheffag,  and  seek  refuge  in  the  vault." 
"  Fly  to  my  room,"  cried  Viviana.  And 
finding  he  stood  irresolute,  and  as  if  para- 
lysed with  terror,  she  took  his  arm,  and 
dragged  him  away.  The  next  moment  the 
door  was  burst  open  with  a  loud  crash, 
and  several  armed  men,  with  their  swords 
drawn,  followed  by  Topcliffe,  and  another 
middle-aged  man,  of  slight  stature,  and 
rather  under-sized,  but  richly  dressed,  and 
bearing  all  the  marks  of  exalted  rank, 
rushed  into  the  room. 

"  You  are  my  prisoner!"  cried  TopclilTe, 
rushing  up  to  CluHham,  who  had  planted 
himself,  with  Martin  Heydocke,  at  the 
foot  of  the  stairs.  "I  arrest  you  in  the 
King's  name!" 


108 


GUY    FAWKES. 


"  You  are  mistaken  in  your  man,  sir," 
cried  Chetham,  fiercely.  "I  have  com- 
mitted no  offence.  Lay  a  hand  upon  me, 
at  your  peril!" 

"  How  is  this?"  cried  Topcliffe.  "  Hum- 
phrey Chetham  here!" 

"Ay,"  returned  the  youngs  merchant; 
"  you  have  fallen  upon  the  wronor  house." 

"  Not  so,  sir,"  replied  Topcliffe.  "  1 
am  satisfied  from  your  presence  that  I  am 
right.  Where  you  are,  Viviana  Radcliffe 
is  not  far  off.  'I'hrow  down  your  arms. — 
You  can  offer  no  resistance  to  my  force, 
and  your  zeal  will  not  benefit  your  friends, 
while  it  will  place  your  own  safety  in  jeo- 
pardy." 

But  Chetham  fiercely  refused  compli- 
ance, and  after  a  few  minutes'  further  par- 
ley, the  soldiers  were  about  to  attack  him, 
when  Viviana  opened  a  door  above,  and 
slowly  descended  the  stairs.  At  her  ap- 
pearance, the  young  merchant,  seeing  that 
further  resistance  would  be  useless,  sheath- 
ed his  sword,  and  she  passed  between  him 
and  Heydocke,  and  advanced  towards  the 
leaders  of  the  band. 

"Whatmeansthis  intrusion^'  sheasked. 

"  We  are  come  in  search  of  two  Jesuit 
priests,  who,  we  have  obtained  informa- 
tion, are  hidden  here,"  replied  Topcliffe; — 
"  as  well  as  of  certain  other  Papists,  dis- 
affected against  the  state,  for  whose  ap- 
prehension I  hold  a  warrant." 

"  You  are  welcome  to  search  the  house," 
replied  Viviana.  "  But  there  is  no  one 
within  it  except  those  you  see." 

As  she  said  this,  Chetham,  who  gazed 
earnestly  at  her,  caught  her  eye,  and  from 
a  scarcely-perceptible  glance,  felt  certain 
the  priest,  through  her  agency,  had  effected 
his  escape.  But  the  soldiers  had  not  wait- 
ed for  her  permission  to  make  the  search. 
Rushing  up  stairs,  they  examined  the  dif- 
ferent chambers — there  were  two  small 
rooms  besides  that  occupied  by  Viviana — 
and  found  several  of  the  priests'  habili- 
ments, but  though  they  examined  every 
corner  with  the  minutest  attention,  sounded 
the  walls,  peered  up  the  chimneys,  un- 
derneath the  bed,  and  into  every  place, 
likely  and  unlikely,  they  could  find  no 
other  traces  of  those  they  sought,  and  were 
compelled  to  return  to  their  leader  with 
tidings  of  their  ill  success.  Topcliffe, 
with  another  party,  continued  his  scrutiny 
below,  and  discovering  the  moveable  fiag 
in  the  hearth,  descended  into  the  vault, 
where  he  made  certain  of  discovering  his 
prey.  But  no  one  was  there;  and,  the  pow- 
der and  arms  having  been  removed,  he 
gained  nothing  by  his  investigations. 

Meanwhile,  his  companion — and  evi- 
dently from  his  garb,  and  the  deference 
paid  him,  though  he  was  addressed  by  no 
title,   which   could    lead   to   the   absolute 


knowledge  of  his  rank,  his  superior — seat- 
ed himself,  and  put  many  questions  in  a 
courteous  but  authoritative  tone  to  Viviana 
respecting  her  residence  in  this  solitary 
abode — tlie  names  of  her  companions — 
where  they  were — and  upon  what  scheme 
they  were  engaged.  To  none  of  these 
questions  would  she  return  an  answer,  and 
her  interrogator,  at  last,  losing  patience, 
said, 

"  I  hold  it  my  duty,  to  inform  you  that 
you  will  be  carried  before  the  Council, 
and  if  you  continue  thus  obstinate,  means 
will  be  taken — and  those  none  of  the  gen- 
tlest— to  extort  the  truth  from  you." 

"  You  may  apply  the  torture  to  me," 
replied  Viviana,  firmly,  "  but  it  will  wrest 
nothing  from  me." 

"That  remains  to  be  seen,"  replied  the 
other;  "  I  only  trust  you  will  not  compel 
me  to  put  my  threat  into  execution." 

At  this  moment  Topcliffe  emerged  from 
the  vault,  and  the  soldiers  returned  from 
their  unsuccessful  search  above. 

"  They  have  escaped  us  now,"  remark- 
ed Topcliffe  to  his  superior.  "  But  1  will 
conceal  a  party  of  men  on  the  premises, 
who  will  be  certain  to  capture  them  on  their 
return." 

Viviana  uttered  an  exclamation  of  irre- 
pressible uneasiness,  which  did  not  escape 
her  auditors. 

"  I  am  right,  you  see,"  observed  Top- 
cliffe, significantly  to  his  companion. 

"  You  are  so,"  replied  the  other. 

As  this  was  said,  Viviana  hazarded  a 
look  at  Humphrey  Chetham,  the  meaning 
of  which  he  was  not  slow  to  comprehend. 
He  saw  that  she  wished  him  to  make  an 
effort  to  escape,  that  he  might  warn  her 
companions,  and  regardless  of  the  conse- 
quence, he  prepared  to  obey  her.  While 
those  around  were  engaged  in  a  last  fruit- 
less search,  he  whispered  his  intentions  to 
Martin  Heydocke,  and  only  awaited  a 
favorable  opportunity  to  put  them  in  exe- 
cution. It  occurred  sooner  than  he  ex- 
pected. Before  quitting  the  premises, 
Topcliffe  determined  to  visit  the  upper 
rooms  himself,  and  he  took  several  of  the 
men  with  him. 

Chetham  would  have  made  an  attempt 
to  liberate  Viviana,  but,  feeling  certain  it 
would  be  unsuccessful,  he  preferred  obey- 
ing her  wishes  to  his  own  inclinations. 
Topcliffe  gone,  he  suddenly  drew  his 
sword — for  neither  he  nor  Heydocke  had 
been  disarmed — and  rushing  towards  the 
door,  struck  down  the  man  next  it,  and 
followed  by  his  servant,  passed  through  it 
before  he  could  be  intercepted  They  both 
then  flew  at  a  swift  pace  towards  the 
marshy  fields,  and,  owing  to  the  darkness 
and  unstable  nature  of  the  ground,  speedily 
distanced  their  pursuers. 


GUY    FAWKES. 


109 


Hearing'  the  disturbance  below,  and 
guessing-  its  cause,  Topolifle  immediately 
descended.  But  he  was  too  late;  and 
though  he  joined  in  the  pursuit,  he  was 
baffled  like  his  attendants.  Half  an  hour 
afterwards,  he  returned  to  the  house  with 
an  anory  and  disappointed  look. 

"  He  has  given  us  the  slip,"  he  observed 
to  his  superior,  who  appeared  exceedingly 
provoked  by  the  young  merchant's  flight; 
"but  we  will  soon  have  him  again." 

After  giving  directions  to  his  men  how 
to  conceal  themselves,  Topcliffe  informed 
his  companion  that  he  was  ready  to  attend 


him.  Viviana,  who  had  remained  motion- 
less and  silent  during  the  foregoing-  scene, 
was  taken  out  of  the  house,  and  conducted 
towards  the  creek,  in  which  lay  a  large 
wherry  manned  by  four  rowers.  She  was 
placed  within  it,  and  as  soon  as  his  supe- 
rior was  seated,  Topcliffe  inquired, 

"  Where  will  your  lordship  go  first?" 

"To  the  Star-Chamber,"  was  the  an- 
swer. 

At  this  reply,  in  spite  of  herself,  Vivi- 
ana could  not  repress  a  shudder. 

"  All  is  lost!"  she  mentally  ejaculated. 


CHAPTER  VI, 
THE  CELLAR. 


It  was  long  liefore  the  conspirators 
gained  sufficient  courage  to  re-commence 
digging  the  mine.  Whenever  holy  water 
was  thrown  upon  the  stones,  the  mysteri- 
ous bell  ceased  tolling,  but  it  presently 
began  anew,  and  such  was  the  appalling 
effect  of  the  sound  that  it  completely  para- 
lysed the  listeners.  Prayers  were  said 
by  Garnet;  hymns  sung  by  the  others;  but 
all  was  of  no  avail.  It  continued  to  toll 
on  with  increased  solemnity,  unless  check- 
ed by  the  same  potent  application  as  be- 
fore. 

The  effect  became  speedily  manifest  in 
the  altered  looks  and  demeanor  of  the  con- 
spirators, and  it  was  evident  that  if  some- 
thing was  not  done  to  rouse  them,  the  en- 
terprise would  be  abandoned.  Catesby, 
equally  superstitious  with  his  confederates, 
but  having  nerves  more  firmly  strung,  was 
the  first  to  conquer  his  terror.  Crossing 
himself,  he  muttered  a  secret  prayer,  and, 
snatching  up  a  pick-axe,  entered  the  cavity, 
and  resumed  his  labor. 

The  noise  of  the  heavy  blows  dealt  by 
him  against  the  wall  drowned  the  tolling 
of  the  bell.  The  charm  was  broken. — 
And  stimulated  by  his  conduct,  the  others 
followed  his  example,  and  tbough  the 
awful  tolling  continued  at  intervals  during 
the  whole  of  their  operations,  it  offered  no 
further  interruption  to  them. 

Another,  and  more  serious  cause  of  anx- 
iety, however,  arose.  As  the  work  ad- 
vanced, without  being  aware  of  it,  they 
approached  the  bank  of  the  river,  and  the 
water  began  to  ooze  through  the  sides  of 
the  excavation — at  first,  slightly,  but  by 
degrees  to  such  an  extent  as  to  convince 
them  that  their  labor  would  'be  entirely 
thrown  away.  Large  portions  of  the  clay, 
loosened  by  the  damp,  fell  in  upon  them, 
nearly  burying  those  nearest  the  tumbling 


mass;  and  the  floor  was  now  in  some 
places  more  than  a  foot  deep  in  water, 
clearly  proving  it  would  be  utterly  impos- 
sible to  keep  the  powder  fit  for  use  in  such 
a  spot. 

Catesby  bore  these  untoward  circum- 
stances with  ill-concealed  mortification. — 
For  a  time,  he  struggled  against  them; 
and  though  he  felt  that  it  was  hopeless, 
worked  on  like  a  desperate  military  leader 
conducting  a  forlorn  hope  to  certain  de- 
struction. At  length,  however,  the  water 
began  to  make  such  incursions  that  he 
could  no  longer  disguise  from  himself  or 
his  companions  that  they  were  contending 
against  unsurmountable  difficulties,  and 
that  to  proceed  further  would  be  madness. 
He,  therefore,  with  a  heavy  heart,  desist- 
ed, and  throwing  down  his  pick-axe,  said 
it  was  clear  that  Heaven  did  not  approve 
their  design,  and  that  it  must  be  relin- 
quished. 

"  We  ought  to  have  been  warned  by  that 
doleful  bell,"  he  observed  in  conclusion. 
"I  now  perceive  its  meaning.  And  as  I 
was  the  first  to  act  in  direct  opposition  to 
the  declared  will  of  the  iSupreme  Being,  so 
now  I  am  the  first  to  admit  my  error." 

"  I  cannot  account  for  that  dread  and 
mysterious  sound,  my  son,"  replied  Gar- 
net, "  and  can  only  attribute  it,  as  you  do, 
to  divine  interference.  But  whether  it 
was  intended  as  a  warning  or  a  guidance, 
I  confess  I  am  unable  to  say." 

"Can  you  longer  doubt,  father,"  re- 
turned Catesby,  bitterly,  "when  you  look 
at  yon  excavation"?  It  took  us  more  than 
a  week's  incessant  labor  to  get  through 
the  first  wall;  and  our  toil  was  no  sooner 
lightened  than  these  fatal  consequences 
ensued.  If  we  proceed,  we  shall  drown 
ourselves,  inste-ad  of  blowing  up  our  foes. 
And  even  if  we  should  escape,  were  the 

10* 


110 


GUY    FAWKES. 


powder  stowed  for  one  day  in  that  damp 
place,  it  would  never  explode.  We  have 
failed,  and  must  take  measures  according- 
ly." 

"  I  entirely  concur  with  you,  my  son," 
replied  Garnet;  "  we  must  abandon  our 
present  plan.  But  do  not  let  us  be  dis- 
heartened. Perhaps  at  this  very  moment, 
Heaven  is  preparing  for  us  a  victory  by 
some  unlooked-for  means." 

"  It  may  be  so,"  replied  Catesby,  with 
a  look  of  incredulity. 

As  he  spoke,  an  extraordinary  noise, 
like  a  shower  of  falling  stones,  was  heard 
overhead.  And  couplmg  the  sound  with 
their  fears  of  the  encroachment  of  the 
damp,  the  conspirators  glanced  at  each 
other  in  dismay,  thinking  the  building 
was  falling  in  upon  them. 

"All  blessed  saints  protect  usi"  cried 
Garnet,  as  the  sound  ceased.  "  What  was 
thatr' 

But  no  one  was  able  to  account  for  it, 
and  each  regarded  his  neighbor  with  ap- 
prehension. After  a  short  interval  of  si- 
lence, the  sound  was  heard  again.  There 
was  then  another  pause — and  again  the 
same  rushing  and  inexplicable  noise. 

"  What  can  it  be?"  cried  Catesby.  "  I 
am  so  enfeebled  by  this  underground  life, 
that  trifles  alarm  me.  Are  our  enemies 
pulling  down  the  structure  over  our  heads'? 
or  are  they  earthing  us  up  like  vermin?" 
he  added  to  Fawkes.     "  What  is  it^" 

"  I  will  go  and  see,"  replied  the  other. 

"Do  not  expose  yourself,  my  son," 
cried  Garnet.  "Let  us  abide  the  result 
here." 

"  No,  father,"  replied  Fawkes.  "  Hav- 
ing failed  in  our  scheme,  what  befalls  me 
is  of  little  consequence.  I  will  go.  If  I 
return  not,  you  will  understand  what  has 
happened." 

Pausing  for  a  moment  to  receive  Gai- 
net's  benediction,  he  then  strode  away. 

Half  an  hour  elapsed,  before  P'awkes  re- 
turned, and  the  interval  appeared  thrice  its 
duration  in  the  eyes  of  the  conspirators. 
When  he  re-appeared,  a  smile  sat  upon 
his  countenance,  and  his  looks  instantly 
dispelled  the  alarm  that  had  been  pre- 
viously felt. 

"  You  bring  us  good  news,  my  son"?" 
cried  Garnet. 

"  Excellent,  father,"  replied  P'awkes: 
"and  you  were  right  in  saying  that  at  the 
very  moment  we  were  indulging  in  mis- 
giving. Heaven  was  preparing  for  us  a  vic- 
tory by  unforeseen  and  mysterious  means." 

Garnet  raised  his  hands  gratefully  and 
reverentially  upwards.  And  the  other 
conspirators  crowded  round  Fawkes  to 
listen  to  his  relation. 

"  The  noise  we  heard,"  he  said,  "  arose 
from   a    very   simple    circumstance— and 


when  you  hear  it,  you  will  smile  at  your 
fears.  But  you  will  not  smile  at  the  re- 
sult to  which  it  has  led.  Exactly  over- 
head, it  appears,  a  cellar  is  situated  be- 
longing to  a  person  named  Bright,  and  the 
sound  was  occasioned  by  the  removal  of 
his  coals,  which  he  has  been  selling  oif." 

"Is  that  all]"  cried  Catesby.  "We 
are  indeed  grown  childish,  to  be  alarmed 
by  such  a  cause." 

"  It  appears  slight,  now  it  is  explained," 
observed  Keyes,  gravely;  "  but  how  were 
we  to  know  whence  it  arose"?" 

"True,"  returned  Fawkes;  "and  I  will 
now  show  you  how  the  hand  of  Heaven 
has  been  manifested  in  the  matter.  The 
noise  which  led  me  to  this  investigation, 
and  which  I  regard  as  a  signal  from  on 
high,  brought  me  to  a  cellar  I  had  never 
seen  before,  and  knew  not  existed.  That 
cellar  lies  immediately  beneath  the  House  of 
Lords:' 

"Ah!  I  see!"  exclaimed  Catesby. 
"  You  think  it  would  form  a  good  deposi- 
tory for  the  powder." 

"  If  it  had  been  built  for  the  express  pur- 
pose, it  could  not  be  better,"  returned 
Fawkes.  "It  is  coinmodious  and  dry, 
and  in  an  out-of-the-way  place,  as  you  may 
judge,  when  we  ourselves  have  never  hi- 
therto noticed  it." 

"  But  what  is  all  this  to  us,  if  we  can- 
not use  it]"  returned  Catesby. 

"  We  can  use  it,"  replied  Fawkes. 
"  It  is  ours." 

There  was  a  general  exclaination  of  sur- 
prise. 

"  Finding,  on  inquiry,  that  Bright  was 
about  to  quit  the  neighborhood,"  conti- 
nued Fawkes,  "and  did  not  require  the 
place  longer,  I  instantly  proposed  to  take 
it  from  him,  and  to  create  no  suspicion, 
engaged  it  in  Percy's  name,  stating  that 
he  wanted  it  for  his  own  fuel." 

"You  have  done  admirably,"  cried 
Catesby,  in  a  tone  of  exultation.  "The 
success  of  the  enterprise  will  now  be  en- 
tirely owing  to  you." 

"  Not  to  me,  but  to  the  Providence  that 
directed  me,"  replied  Fawkes  solemnly. 

"Right,  my  son,"  returned  Garnet. 
"And  let  this  teach  us  never  to  despair 
again." 

The  next  day,  Percy  having  taken  pos- 
session of  the  cellar,  it  was  carefully  ex- 
amined, and  proved,  as  Fawkes  had  slated, 
admirably  adapted  to  their  purpose.  Their 
fears  were  now  at  an  end,  and  they  looked 
on  the  success  of  their  project  as  certain. 
The  mysterious  bell  no  longer  tolled,  and 
their  sole  remaining  task  was  to  fill  up  the 
excavation  •  so  far  as  to  prevent  any  da- 
mage from  the  wet. 

This  was  soon  done,  and  their  next  step 
was  to  transport  the  powder  during  the 


GUY    FAWKES. 


Ill 


night  to  the  cellar.  Concealing  the  bar- 
rels as  before  with  faggots  and  coals,  they 
gave  the  place  the  appearance  of  a  mere 
receptacle  for  lumber,  by  filling  it  with 
old  hampers,  boxes  without  lids,  broken 
bottles,  stone  jars,  and  other  rubbish. 

They  now  began  to  think  of  separating, 
and  Guy  Fawkes  expressed  his  intention 
of  returning  that  night  to  the  house  at 
Lambeth.  No  intelligence  had  reached 
them  of  Viviana's  captivity,  and  they  sup- 
posed her  still  an  inmate  of  the  miserable 
dwelling  with  Father  Oldcorne. 

Fawkes  had  often  thought  of  her,  and 
■with  uneasiness,  during  'his  toilsome  la- 
bors; but  they  had  so  much  engrossed  him 
that  her  image  was  banished  almost  as 
soon  as  it  arose.  Now  that  grand  obsta- 
cle was  surmounted,  and  nothing  was 
wanting,  however,  except  a  favorable  mo- 
ment to  strike  the  blow,  he  began  to  feel 
the  greatest  anxiety  respecting  her. 

Still,  he  thought  it  prudent  to  postpone 
his  return  to  a  late  hour,  and  it  was  not 
until  near  midnight  that  he  and  Catesby 
ventured  to  their  boat.  As  he  was  about 
to  descend  the  steps,  he  heard  his  name 
pronounced  by  some  one  at  a  little  distance; 
and  the  next  moment,  a  man,  whom  he 
immediately  recognised  as  Humphrey 
Chetham,  rushed  up  to  him. 

"  You  h'ere  again!"  cried  Fawkes,  an- 
grily, and  not  unsuspiciously.  "  Do  you 
play  the  spy  upon  me'?" 

"  I  have  watched  for  you  for  the  last 
ten  nights,"  replied  Chetham  hastily.  "  1 
knew  not  where  you  were.  But  1  found 
your  boat  here,  and  I  hoped  you  would 
not  cross  the  water  in  any  other." 

"  Why  all  this  care]"  demanded  Fawkes. 
"has  aught  happened?  Is  Viviana  safe? 
Speak,  man!  do  not  keep  me  longer  in 
suspense!" 

"  Alas!"  rejoined  Chetham.  "  She  is 
a  prisoner." 

"  A  prisoner!"  ejaculated  Fawkes,  in  a 
hollow  voice.  "Then  my  forebodings 
were  not  without  cause." 

"  How  has  this  happened?"  cried  Cates- 
by, who  had  listened  to  what  was  said  in 
silent  wonder. 

Chetham  then  hastily  related  all  that 
had  taken  place. 

"  I  know  not  what  has  become  of  her," 
he  said,  in  conclusion;  "  but  I  have  heard 
that  she  was  taken  to  the  Star-Chamber 
by  the  Earl  of  Salisbury — for  ho,  it  ap- 
pears, was  the  companion  of  TopclilTe — 
and,  refusing  to  answer  the  interrogations 
of  the  council,  was  conveyed  to  the  Tower, 
and  I  fear  subjected  to  the  torture." 

"Tortured!"  exclaimed  Fawkes,  horror- 
stricken;  "  Viviana  tortured!     And  I  have 
brought  her  to  this!  Oh,  God!   Oh,  God!" 
"It  is  indeed  an  agonising  reflection," 


replied  Humphrey  Chetham,  in  a  sombre 
tone,  "  and  enough  to  drive  you  to  de-  . 
spair.  Her  last  wishes,  expressed  only 
in  looks,  for  she  did  not  dare  to  give  ut- 
terance to  them,  were  that  I  should  warn 
you  not  to  approach  the  house  at  Lambeth, 
your  enemies  being  concealed  within  it. 
I  have  now  fulfilled  them.     Farewell!" 

And  he  turned  to  depart. 

"Stay!"  cried  Catesby,  arresting  him. 
"Where  is  Father  Oldcorne]" 

"I  know  not," replied  Humphrey  Chet- 
ham. "As  I  have  told  you,  Viviana  by 
some  means  contrived  his  escape.  I  have 
seen  nothing  of  him." 

And,  hurrying  away,  he  was  lost  be- 
neath the  shadow  of  the  wall. 

"Is  this  a  troubled  dream,  or  dread 
reality]"  cried  Fawkes  to  Catesby. 

"  I  fear  it  is  too  true,"  returned  the 
other,  in  a  voice  of  much  emotion.  "  Poor 
Viviana!" 

"Something  must  be  done  to  set  her 
free,"  cried  Fawkes.  "  I  will  purchase 
her  liberty  by  delivering  up  myself." 

"  Your  oath — remember  your  oath!" 
rejoined  Catesby.  "You  may  destroy 
yourself,  but  not  your  associates." 

"True — true,"  replied  Fawkes,  dis- 
tractedly— "  I  do  remember  it.  1  am  sold 
to  perdition." 

"Anger  not  Heaven  by  these  idle  la- 
mentations— and  at  a  time,  too,  when  all 
is  so  prosperous,"  rejoined  Catesby. 

"What!"  cried  Fawkes,  fiercely,  "would 
you  have  me  calm,  when  she  who  called 
me  father,  and  was  dear  to  me  as  a  child, 
is  taken  from  me  by  these  remorseless 
butchers — subjected  to  their  terrible  ex- 
aminations— plunged  in  a  dismal  dungeon 
— and  stretched  upon  the  rack — and  all 
for  me!  I  shall  go  mad  if  I  think  upon 
it!" 

"  You  must  not  think  upon  it,"  returned 
Catesby — "  at  least,  not  here.  We  shall 
be  observed.  Let  us  return  to  the  house; 
and  perhaps — though  I  scarcely  dare  in- 
dulge the  hope — some  plan  may  be  de- 
vised for  her  liberation." 

With  this,  he  dragged  Fawkes,  who 
was  almost  frenzied  with  anguish,  forcibly 
along,  and  they  returned  to  the  house. 

Nothing  more  was  said  that  night. 
Catesby  judged  it  prudent  to  let  the  first 
violence  of  his  friend's  emotions  expend 
itself  before  he  attempted  to  soothe  him; 
and  when  he  communicated  the  sad  event 
to  Garnet,  the  latter  strongly  approved  the 
plan.  Garnet  was  greatly  distressed  at 
the  intelligence,  and  his  affliction  was 
shared  by  the  other  conspirators.  No 
fears  were  entertained  by  any  of  them  that 
Viviana  would  reveal  aught  of  the  plot, 
but  this  circumstance  only  added  to  their 
regrets. 


112 


GUY    FAWKES. 


"  I  will  stake  my  life  for  her  con- 
stancy," said  Catesby. 

"And  so  will  1,"  returned  (iarnet. 
"  She  will  die  a  martyr  for  us." 

He  then  proposed  that  they  should  pray 
for  her  deliverance.  And  all  instantly 
assentinjr,  they  knelt  down,  while  Garnet 
poured  forth  the  most  earnest  supplications 
to  the  Virgin  in  her  behalf. 

The  next  morning,  Guy  Fawkes  set 
forth,  and  ascertained  that  Humphrey 
Chetham's  statement  was  correct,  and 
that  Viviana  was  indeed  a  prisoner  in  liie 
Tower.  He  repaired  thither,  and  tried  to 
ascertain  in  what  part  of  the  fortress  she 
was  confined,  in  the  hope  of  gaining  ad- 
mittance to  her.  But  as  he  could  obtain 
no  information,  and  liis  inquiries  excited 
suspicion,  he  was  compelled  to  return 
without  accomplishing  his  object. 

Crossing  Tower  Hill  on  his  way  back, 
he  turned  to  cast  a  glance  at  the  stern  pile 
he  had  just  quilled,  and  which  was  fraught 
with  the  most  fearful  interest  to  him,  when 
he  perceived  Ch.etham  issue  from  the  Bul- 
wark Gate.  He  would  have  made  up  to 
him;  but  the  young  merchant,  who  had 
evidently  seen  him,  though  he  looked 
sedulously  another  way,  set  off  in  tiie 
direction  of  the  river,  and  was  quickly 
lost  to  view.  Filled  with  the  gloomiest 
thoughts,  Guy  Fawkes  proceeded  to  West- 
minster, where  he  arrived  without  further 
adventure  of  any  kind. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  same  day,  as 
the  conspirators  were  conferring  together, 
they  were  alarmed  by  a  knocking  at  the 
outer  gate;  and  sending  Bates  to  recon- 
noitre, he  instantly  returned  with  the  in- 
telligence that  it  was  Lord  Mounteagle. 
At  the  mention  of  this  name,  Tresham, 
who  was  one  of  the  part}^  turned  pale  as 
death,  and  trembled  so  violently  that  he 
could  scarcely  support  himself.  Having 
been  allowed  to  go  forth  on  that  day,  the 
visit  of  Lord  INIounteagle  at  this  juncture, 
coupled  with  the  agitation  it  occasioned 
him,  seerned  to  proclaim  him  guilty  of 
treachery  for  the  second  time. 

"  You  have  betrayed  us,  villain!"  cried 
Catesby,  drawing  his  dagger;  "but  you 
shall  not  escape.  I  will  poniard  you  on 
the  spot." 

"  As  you  hope  for  mercy,  do  not  strike!" 
cried  Tresham.  "On  my  soul,  I  have  not 
seen  Lord  Mounteagle,  and  know  not,  any 
more  than  yourselves,  what  brings  him 
hither.  Put  it  to  the  proof.  Let  him 
come  in.  Conceal  yourselves,  and  you 
will  hear  what  passes  between  us." 

"  Let  it  be  so,"  interposed  Fawkes.  "  1 
will  step  within  this  closet,  the  door  ot 
which  shall  remain  ajar.  From  it  I  can 
watch  him  without  being  observed,  and  if 


aught  occurs  to  confirm  our  suspicions,  he 
dies." 

"Bates  shall  station  himself  in  the  pas- 
sage, and  stab  him  if  he  attempts  to  lly," 
added  Catesby.     "  Your  sword,  sir." 

"It  is  here,"  replied  Tresham,  deliver- 
ing it  to  Catesby,  who  handed  it  to  Bates. 
"Are  you  satisfied]" 

"  Is  Lord  Mounteagle  alonel"  inquired 
Catesby,  without  noticing  the  question. 

"He  appears  to  be  so,"  replied  Bates. 

"  Admit  him,  then,"  rejoined  Catesby. 

Entering  the  closet  with  Keyes,  he  was 
followed  by  Fawkes,  who  drew  his  dag- 
ger, and  kept  the  door  slightly  ajar,  while 
Garnet  and  the  rest  retired  to  other  hid- 
ing-places. A  few  moments  afterwards. 
Bates  returned  with  Lord  Mounteagle, 
and,  having  ushered  him  into  the  room, 
took  his  station  in  the  passage,  as  directed 
by  Catesby.  The  room  was  very  dark, 
the  shutters  being  closed,  and  light  only 
finding  its  way  through  the  chinks  in 
them;  and  it  appeared  totally  so  to  Lord 
Mounteagle,  who,  grcping  his  way,  slum- 
bled  forward,  and  exclaimed,  in  accents  of 
some  alarm, 

"  Where  am  I]  Where  is  ]Mr.  Tres- 
ham?" 

"I  am  here,"  replied  Tresham,  advanc- 
ing towards  him.  "  How  did  your  lord- 
ship find  me  ouir'  he  added,  after  the 
customary  salutations  were  exchanged. 

"  My  servant  saw  you  enter  this  house," 
replied  INIounteagle,  "and,  knowing  1  was 
anxious  to  see  you,  waited  for  some  hours 
without,  in  the  expectation  of  your  com- 
ing forth.  But  as  this  did  not  occur,  he 
mentioned  the  circumstance  to  me  on  his 
return,  and  1  immediately  came  in  quest  of 
you.  When  I  knocked  at  the  gate,  I 
scarcely  knew  what  to  think  of  the  place, 
and  began  to  fear  you  must  have  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  cut-throats;  and,  now 
that  I  have  gained  admittance,  my  wonder 
— and  I  may  add  my  uneasiness — is  not 
diminished.  Why  do  you  hide  yourself 
in  this  wretched  place]" 

"Be  seated,"  replied  Tresham,  placing 
a  chair  for  Lord  Mounteagle,  with  its  back 
to  the  closet,  while  he  took  one  opposite 
him,  and  near  a  table,  on  which  some 
papers  were  laid.  "Your  lordship  may 
remember,"  he  continued,  scarcely  know- 
ing what  answer  to  make  to  the  question, 
"  that  I  wrote  to  you  some  time  ago,  to 
say  that  a  conspiracy  was  hatching  among 
certain  of  our  party  against  the  state." 

"  I  have  reason  to  remember  it,"  replied 
Mounteagle.  " 'I'he  letter  was  laid  before 
the  Earl  of  Salisbury,  and  inquiries  insti- 
tuted in  consequence.  But,  owing  to  your 
disappearance,  nothing  could  he  elicited. 
What  plot  had  you  discovered]" 


GUY    FAWKES. 


113 


At  this  moment,  Tresham,  who  kept  his 
eye  fixed  on  the  closet,  perceived  the  door 
noiselessly  open,  and  behind  it  the  figure 
of  Guy  Fawkes,  with  the  dagger  in  his 
hand. 

"  I  was  misinformed  as  to  the  nature  of 
the  plot,"  he  stammered. 

"  Was  it  against  the  king's  lifeV  de- 
manded Mounteagle. 

"No,"  rejoined  Tresham;  "as  far  as  I 
could  learn,  it  was  an  insurrection." 

"  Indeed!"  exclaimed  Mounteagle,  scep- 
tically. "  My  information,  then,  differed 
from  yours.  Who  were  the  parties  you 
suspected]" 

"  As  I  wrongfully  suspected  them,"  re- 
plied Tresham,  evasively,  "  your  lordship 
must  excuse  my  naming  them." 

"  Was  Catesby — or  Winter — or  W'' right 
— or  Rookwood — or  Sir  Everard  Digby 
concerned  in  itl"  demanded  Mounteagle. 

"  Not  one  of  them,"  asseverated  Tres- 
ham. 

"  They  are  the  persons  /  suspect,"  re- 
plied Mounteagle;  "and  they  are  suspected 
by  the  Earl  of  Salisbury.  But  you  have 
not  told  me  what  you  are  doing  in  this 
strange  habitation.  Are  you  ferreting  out 
a  plot,  or  contriving  oneT" 

"  Both,"  replied  Tresham. 

"  How?"  cried  Mounteagle. 

"  I  am  plotting  for  myself,  and  counter- 
plotting the  designs  of  others,"  replied 
Tresham,  mysteriously. 

"  Is  this  place,  then,  the  rendezvous  of 
a  band  of  conspirators'?"  asked  Mounteagle, 
uneasily. 

Tresham  nodded  in  the  affirmative. 

"  Who  are  they]"  continued  Mounteagle. 


"  There  is  no  need  of  concealment  with 
me." 

As  this  was  said,  Tresham  raised  his 
eyes,  and  saw  that  Guy  Fawkes  had  step- 
ped silently  forward,  and  placed  himself 
behind  Mounteagle's  chair.  His  hand 
grasped  his  dagger,  and  his  gaze  never 
moved  from  the  object  of  his  suspicion, 

"  Who  are  they  1"  repeated  Mounteagle. 
"Is  Guy  Fawkes  one  of  them." 

"  Assuredly  not,"  replied  Tresham. 
"  Why  should  you  name  himl  I  never 
mentioned  him  to  your  lordship." 

"I  think  you  did,"  replied  Mounteagle. 
"  But  I  am  certain  you  spoke  of  Catesby." 

And  Tresham's  regards  involuntarily 
wandered  to  the  closet,  when  he  beheld 
the  stern  glance  of  the  person  alluded  to 
fixed  upon  him. 

"  You  have  heard  of  Viviana  Radcliffe's 
imprisonment,  I  suppose]"  pursued  Mount- 
eagle, unconscious  of  what  was  passing. 

"  I  have,"  replied  Tresham. 

"  The  Earl  of  Salisbury  expected  he 
would  be  able  to  wring  all  from  her,  but 
he  has  failed,"  observed  Mounteagle. 

"  I  am  glad  of  it,"  replied  Tresham. 

"I  thought  you  were  disposed  to  serve 
him]"  remarked  Mounteagle. 

"So  I  am,"  replied  Tresham.  "But, 
if  secrets  are  to  be  revealed,  I  had  rather 
be  the  bearer  of  them  than  any  one  else.  I 
am  sorry  for  Viviana." 

"  I  could  procure  her  liberation,  if  I 
chose,"  observed  INIounteagle. 

"  Say  you  so]"  cried  Fawkes,  clapping 
him  on  the  shoulder;  "  then  you  stir  not 
hence  till  you  have  procured  it!" 


CHAPTER  VII. 


THE  STAR-CHAMBER. 


Viviana,  as  has  already  been  intimated, 
after  her  capture  at  the  house  at  Lambeth, 
was  conveyed  to  the  Star-Chamber.  Here 
she  was  detained  until  a  late  hour  on  the 
following  day,  when  she  underwent  a  long 
and  rigorous  examination  by  certain  mem- 
bers of  the  Privy  Council,  who  were  sum- 
moned for  that  purpose  by  the  P]arl  of 
Salisbury.  Throughout  tiiis  arduous  trial 
she  maintained  the  utmost  composure,  and 
never  for  a  single  moment  lost  her  firm- 
ness. On  all  occasions,  her  matchless 
beauty  and  dignity  produced  the  strongest 
impression  on  the  beholders;  but  on  no 
occasion  had  they  ever  produced  so  strong 
an  effect  as  the  present.  Her  features 
were  totally  destitute  of  bloom,  hut  their 
very  paleness,  contrasted  as  it  was  with 


her  large  dark  eyes,  which  blazed  with 
unwonted  brilliancy,  as  well  as  with  her 
jet-black  hair,  so  far  from  detracting  from 
her  loveliness,  appeared  to  add  to  it. 

As  she  was  brought  before  the  Council, 
who  were  seated  round  a  table,  and  re- 
mained standing  at  a  short  distance  from 
them,  guarded  by  Topclille  and  two  hal- 
berdiers, a  murmur  of  admiration  pervaded 
the  group — nor  was  this  feeling  lessened 
as  the  examination  proceeded.  Once, 
when  the  Earl  of  Salisbury  adverted  to 
the  unworthy  position  in  which  she,  the 
daughter  of  the  proud  and  loyal  Sir 
William  Radcliffe,  had  placed  herself,  a 
shade  passed  over  her  brow,  and  a  slight 
convulsion  agitated  her  frame.  But  the 
next  momcntsherecovered  herself, and  said, 


114 


GUY    FAWKES. 


"  However  circumstances  may  appear 
against  mc,  and  whatever  opinion  your 
lordships  may  entertain  of  my  conduct, 
the  King  has  not  a  more  loyal  sul)ject 
than  myself,  nor  have  any  of  you  made 
greater  efforts  to  avert  the  danger  by 
which  he  is  threatened." 

"Then  you  admit  that  his  Majesty  is 
in-  danger?"  cried  the  Earl  of  Salisbury, 
eagerly. 

"1  admit  nothing,"  replied  Viviana. 
"But  I  affirm  that  I  am  his  true  and  loyal 
subject." 

"You  cannot  expect  us  to  believe  your 
assertions,"  replied  the  earl;  "  unless  you 
approve  it  by  declaring  all  you  know 
touciiing  this  conspiracy." 

"I  have  already  told  you,  my  lord," 
she  returned,  "  that  my  Ii])S  are  sealed  on 
that  subject." 

"  You  disclaim,  then,  all  knowledge  of 
a  plot  against  the  King's  life,  and  against 
his  government?"  pursued  Salisbury. 

Viviana  shook  her  head. 

"  You  refuse  to  give  up  the  names  of 
your  companions,  or  to  reveal  their  inten- 
tions?" continued  the  earl. 

"  I  do,"  she  answered  firmly. 

"  Your  obstinacy  will  not  save  them," 
rejoined  the  earl  in  a  severe  tone,  and 
after  a  brief  pause.  "Their  names  and 
their  atrocious  designs  are  known  to  us." 

"  If  such  be  the  case,"  replied  Viviana, 
"why  interrogate  me  on  the  subject?" 

"Because — but  it  is  needless  to  give  a 
reason  for  the  course  which  justice  re- 
quires me  to  pursue,"  returned  the  earl. 
"You  are  implicated  in  this  plot,  and 
nothing  can  save  you  from  condign  pun- 
ishment but  a  frank  and  full  confession." 

"  Nothing  can  save  me  then,  my  lord," 
replied  Viviana,  "but  Heaven  knows  I 
shall  perish  unjustly." 

A  consultation  was  then  held  by  the 
lords  of  the  council,  who  whispered  to- 
gether for  a  few  minutes.  Viviana  re- 
garded them  anxiously,  but  suffered  no 
expression  of  uneasiness  to  escape  her. 
As  they  again  turned  towards  her,  she 
saw  from  their  looks,  some  of  which  ex- 
hibited great  commiseration  for  her,  that 
they  had  come  to  a  decision  (she  could 
not  doubt  what)  respecting  her  fate.  Her 
heart  stopped  beating,  and  she  could 
scarcely  support  herself.  Such,  however, 
was  the  control  she  exercised  over  herself 
that,  though  filled  with  terror,  her  de- 
meanor remained  unaltered.  Siie  was  not 
long  kept  in  suspense.  Fixing  his  search- 
ing gaze  upon  her,  the  Earl  of  Salisbury 
observed  in  a  severe  tone, 

"  Viviana  liadcliffe,  I  ask  you  for  the 
last  lime  whether  you  will  avow  the 
truth?" 

No  answer  was  returned. 


"I  will  not  disguise  from  you,"  con- 
tinued the  earl,  "that  your  youth,  your 
beauty,  your  constancy,  and,  above  all, 
your  apparent  innocence,  have  deeply  in- 
terested me,  as  well  as  the  other  noble 
persons  here  assembled  to  interrogate  you, 
and  who  would  willingly  save  you  from 
the  sufferings  you  will  necessarily  under- 
go, from  a  mistaken  fidelity  to  the  heinous 
traitors  with  whom  you  are  so  uidiappily 
leagued.  I  would  give  you  time  to  re- 
flect did  I  think  the  delay  would  answer 
any  good  purpose.  I  would  remind  you 
that  no  oath  of  secrecy,  however  solemn, 
can  be  binding  in  an  unrighteous  cause. 
I  would  tell  you  that  your  first  duty  is  to 
your  prince  and  governor,  and  that  it  is  as 
great  a  crime,  as  unpardonable  in  the  eyes 
of  God  as  of  man,  to  withhold  the  revela- 
tion of  a  conspiracy  against  the  state, 
should  it  come  to  your  knowledge,  as  to 
conspire  against  it  yourself.  I  would  lay 
all  this  before  you.  I  would  show  you 
the  magnitude  of  your  offence,  the  danger 
in  which  you  stand,  and  the  utter  impossi- 
bility uf  screening  your  companions,  who 
ere  long  will  be  confronted  with  you — did 
I  think  it  would  avail.  But,  as  you 
continue  obstinate,  justice  must  take  its 
course." 

"  I  am  prepared  for  the  worst,  my  lord," 
replied  Viviana,  humbly.  "I  thank  your 
lordships  for  your  consideration:  but  I 
take  you  all  to  witness  that  1  profess 
the  utmost  loyalty  and  devotion  for  my 
sovereign,  and  that,  whatever  may  be  my 
fate,  those  feelings  will  remain  unchanged 
to  the  last." 

"  Your  manner  and  your  words  are  so 
sincere,  that,  were  not  your  conduct  at 
variance  with  them,  they  might  convince 
us,"  returned  the  earl.  "  As  it  is,  even 
if  we  could  credit  your  innocence,  we  are 
bound  to  act  as  if  you  were  guilty.  You 
will  be  committed  to  the  Tower  till  his 
Majesty's  pleasure  is  known.  And  I 
grieve  to  add,  if  you  still  continue  obsti- 
nate, the  severest  measures  will  be  re- 
sorted to,  to  extract  the  truth  from  you." 

As  he  concluded,  he  attached  his  signa- 
ture to  a  warrant  which  was  lying  on  the 
table  before  him,  and  traced  a  few  lines  to 
Sir  William  Waad,  lieutenant  of  the 
Tower. 

This  done,  he  handed  the  papers  to  Top- 
cliffe,  and  waving  his  hand,  Viviana  was 
removed  to  the  chamber  in  which  she  had 
been  previously  confined,  and  vviiere  she 
was  detained  under  a  strict  guard,  until 
Topcliffe,  who  had  left  her,  returned  to  say 
that  all  was  in  readiness,  and  bidding  her 
follow  him,  led  the  way  to  the  river-side, 
where  a  wherry,  manned  by  six  rowers, 
was  waiting  for  them. 

The  uiglit  was  profoundly  dark,  and,  as 


GUY     FAWKES. 


115 


none  of  the  guard  carried  torches,  their 
course  was  steered  in  perfect  obscurity. 
But  the  rowers  were  too  familiar  with  the 
river  to  require  the  guidance  of  light. 
Shootinf  the  bridge  in  safety,  and  pausing 


only  for  a  moment  to  give  the  signal  of 
their  approach  to  the  sentinels  on  the  ram- 
parts, they  passed  swiftly  under  the  low- 
browed arch  of  Traitor's  Gate. 


CHAPTER   Vlll. 
THE  JAILER'S  DAUGHTER. 


As  Viviana  set  foot  on  those  fatal  stairs, 
which  so  many  have  trod,  and  none  with- 
out feeling  that  they  took  their  first  step 
towards  the  scaffold,  she  involuntarily 
shrank  backward.  But  it  was  now  too 
late  to  retreat;  and  she  surrendered  her 
hand  to  TopclifTe,  who  assisted  her  up  the 
steps.  Half-a-dozen  men-at-arms,  with  a 
like  number  of  warders  bearing  torches, 
were  present;  and  as  it  was  necessary  that 
TopclifTe  should  deliver  his  warrant  into 
Sir  William  Waad's  own  hands,  he  com- 
mitted his  prisoner  to  the  warders,  with 
instructions  to  them  to  take  her  to  the 
guard-roorn  near  the  By-ward  Tower, 
while  he  proceeded  to  the  lieutenant's 
lodgings. 

It  was  the  first  time  Viviana  had  beheld 
the  terrible  pile  in  which  she  was  im- 
mured, though  she  was  well  acquainted 
with  its  history,  and  with  the  persecutions 
which  many  of  the  professors  of  her  faith 
had  endured  within  it  during  the  recent 
reign  of  Elizabeth;  and  as  the  light  of  the 
torches  flashed  upon  the  grey  walls  of  the 
Bloody  Tower,  and  upon  the  adjoining 
ramparts,  all  the  dreadful  tales  she  had 
heard  rushed  to  her  recollection.  But 
having  recovered  the  first  shock,  the  suc- 
ceeding impressions  were  powerless  in 
comparison,  and  she  accompanied  the  war- 
ders to  the  guard-room  without  expressing 
any  outward  emotion.  Here  a  seat  was 
offered  her,  and  as  the  men  considerately 
■withdrew,  she  was  able  to  pursue  her  re- 
flections unmolested.  Tliey  were  sad 
enough,  and  it  required  all  her  firmness  to 
support  lier. 

When  considering  what  was  likely  to 
befall  her  in  consequence  of  her  adherence 
to  the  fortunes  of  Fawkes  and  his  com- 
panions, she  had  often  |)ictured  some  dread- 
ful situation  like  the  present,  but  the  reality 
far  exceeded  her  worst  anticipations.  She 
had  deemed  herself  equal  to  any  emergency, 
but  as  she  thought  upon  the  dark  menaces 
of  the  Earl  of  Salisbury,  she  felt  it  would 
require  greater  fortitude  than  she  had 
hitherto  displayed  to  bear  her  through  her 
trial.  Nor  were  her  meditations  entirely 
confined  upon  herself.  While  treinl)ling 
for  the  perilous  situation  of  Guy  Fawkes, 


she  reproached  herself  that  she  could  not 
requite  even  in  thought  the  passionate  de- 
votion of  Humphrey  Chetham. 

"  What  matters  it  now,"  she  thought, 
"thatl  cannot  love  himi  I  shall  soon  be 
nothing  to  him,  or  to  any  one.  And  yet  I 
feel  I  have  done  him  wrong,  and  that  I 
should  be  happier  if  I  could  requite  his  at- 
tachment. But  the  die  is  cast.  It  is  too 
late  to  repent  or  to  retreat.  My  heart  ac- 
quits me  of  having  been  influenced  by  any 
unworthy  motive,  and  I  will  strive  to  en- 
dure the  keenest  pang  without  a  murmur." 

Shortly  after  this,  Topclitfe  returned 
with  Sir  William  Waad.  On  their  en- 
trance, Viviana  arose,  and  the  lieutenant 
eyed  her  with  some  curiosity.  He  was  a 
middle-aged  man,  tall,  stoutl3'-built,  and 
having  harsh  features,  stamped  with  an 
expression  of  mingled  cunningand  ferocity. 
His  eyes  had  a  fierce  and  bloodthirsty  look, 
and  were  overshadowed  by  thick  and 
scowling  brows.  Saluting  the  captive 
with  affected  courtesy,  he  observed, 

"So  you  refuse  to  answer  the  interroga- 
tions of  the  Privy  Council,  madam,  I  un- 
derstand. I  am  not  sorry  for  it,  because 
I  would  have  the  merit  of  wringing  the 
truth  from  you.  Those  who  have  been  the 
most  stubborn  outside  these  walls,  have 
been  the  most  yielding  within  them." 

"•  That  will  not  be  my  case,"  replied 
Viviana,  coldly. 

"  We  shall  see,"  returned  the  lieutenant, 
with  a  significant  glance  at  TopclifTe. 

Ordering  her  to  follow  him,  he  then  pro- 
ceeded along  the  ward  in  the  direction  of 
the  Bloody  Tower,  and  passing  beneath 
its  arched  gateway,  ascended  the  steps  on 
the  left,  and  led  her  to  his  lodgings.  Va\- 
tering  the  habitation,  he  mounted  to  the 
upper  story,  and  tracking  a  long  gallery, 
brought  her  to  a  small  circular  chamber  in 
the  IJell  Tower.  Its  sole  furniture  were  a 
chair,  a  table  and  a  couch. 

"  Here  you  will  remain  for  the  present," 
observed  the  lieutenant,  smiling  grimly, 
and  placing  a  lamp  on  the  table.  "  It  will 
dejiend  upon  yourself  whether  your  accom- 
modations are  belter  hereafter." 

\\  ilh  this,  he  quitted  the  cell  with  his 
attendants,  and  barred  the  door  outside. 


116 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


Left  alone,  Viviana,  Avho  had  hitherto 
restrained  her  an^^uish,  suffered  it  to  find 
vent  in  t(;ars.  Never  had  slie  felt  so  utterly 
forlorn  and  desolate.  All  before  her  was 
tlireatenino  and  terrible,  full  of  dangers 
real  and  imaginary;  nor  could  she  look 
back  upon  her  past  career  without  some- 
thing like  remorse. 

"  Oh  that  Heaven  would  take  me  to  it- 
self!" she  murmured,  clasping  her  hands 
in  an  agony  of  distress,  "  for  I  feel  une- 
qual to  my  trials.  Oh!  that  I  had  perished 
with  my  dear  father!  For  what  dreadful 
fate  am  I  reserved? — Torture — I  will  bear 
it,  if  I  can,  liut  death  by  the  hands  of 
the  public  executioner — it  is  too  horrible 
to  think  of!  Is  there  no  way  to  escape 
thai?'' 

As  this  hideous  thought  occurred  to  her, 
she  uttered  a  loud  and  prolonoed  scream, 
and  fell  senseless  on  the  floor.  'When  she 
recovered  it  was  daylight;  and,  weak  and 
exhausted,  she  crept  to  the  couch,  and 
throwing  herself  upon  it,  endeavored  to 
forget  her  misery  in  sleep.  But,  as  is 
usually  the  case  with  the  afflicted,  it  fled 
her  eyelids,  and  she  passed  several  hours 
in  the  severest  mental  torture,  unrelieved 
by  a  single  cheering  thouglit. 

About  the  middle  of  the  day,  the  door 
of  the  cell  was  opened  hy  an  old  woman 
with  a  morose  and  forbidding  countenance, 
attended  by  a  younger  female,  who  resem- 
bled her  in  all  but  the  expression  of  her 
features,  (her  look  was  gentle  and  com- 
passionate,) and  who  appeared  to  be  her 
daughter. 

VVithout  payingany  attention  to  Viviana, 
the  old  woman  took  a  small  loaf  of  bread 
and  other  provisions  from  a  basket  she  had 
brought  with  her,  and  placed  them  on  the 
table.  This  done,  she  was  about  to  de- 
part, when  her  daughter,  who  had  glanced 
uneasily  at  the  couch,  observed  in  a  kindly 
tone, 

"  Shall  we  not  inquire  whether  we  can 
be  of  service  to  tiie  poor  young  lady,  mo- 
ther'!" 

"Why  should  we  concern  ourselves 
about  her,  Ruth]"  returned  the  old  woman, 
sharply.  "If  she  wants  anything,  she 
has  a  tongue,  and  can  speak.  If  she  de- 
sires further  comforts,''  she  added,  in  a 
significant  tone,  "  they  must  be  paid  for." 

"  I  desire  nothing  but  death,"  groaned 
Viviana. 

"Tlie  poor  soul  is  dying,  I  believe," 
cried  Ruth,  rushing  to  the  couch.  "  Have 
you  no  cordial-water  about  you,  mother?" 

"Truly  have  I,"  returned  the  old  wo- 
man; "  and  I  have  other  things  besides. — 
But  I  must  be  paid  for  them." 

As  she  spoke,  she  drew  from  her  pocket 
a  small,  square,  Dutch-shaped  bottle. 

"  Give  it  me,"  cried  Ruth,  snatching  it 


from  her.     "  I  am  sure  the  young  lady  will 
pay  for  it." 

"  Vou  are  very  kind,"  said  Viviana  faint- 
ly.    "But  I  have  no  means  of  doing  so." 

"  I  knew  it!"  cried  the  old  woman, 
fiercely.  "  I  knew  it.  (Jive  me  back  the 
flask,  Ruth.  She  shall  not  taste  a  drop. — 
Do  you  not  hear  she  has  no  money,  wench'? 
Give  it  me,  I  say." 

"  Nay,  mother,  for  pity's  sake,"  implor- 
ed Ruth. 

"  Pity,  forsooth!"  exclaimed  the  old 
woman,  derisively.  "  If  I,  and  thy  father, 
Jasper  Ipgreve,  had  any  such  feeling,  it 
would  be  high  time  for  liim  to  give  up  his 
post  of  jailer  in  the  Tower  of  London. — 
Pity  for  a  poor  prisoner!  Thou  a  jailer's 
daughter,  and  talk  so?  I  am  ashamed  of 
thee,  wrench.  But  I  thought  this  was  a 
rich  Catholic  heiress,  and  had  powerful 
and  wealthy  friends." 

"  So  she  is,"  replied  Ruth;  "  and  though 
she  may  have  no  money  with  her  now,  she 
can  command  anj"^  amount  she  pleases.  I 
heard  Master  Topcliffe  tell  young  Nicholas 
Hardesty,  the  warder,  so.  She  is  the 
daughter  of  the  late  Sir  William  Radcliffe, 
of  Ordsall  Hall  in  Lancashire,  and  sole 
heiress  of  his  vast  estates." 

"Is  this  so,  sweet  lady?"  inquired  the 
old  woman,  stepping  towards  the  couch. 
"Are  you  truly  Sir  William  Radcliffe's 
daughter?" 

"  I  am,"  replied  Viviana.  "But  I  have 
said  I  require  nothing  from  you.  Leave 
me." 

"No — no,  dear  young  lady,  rejoined 
Dame  Ipgreve,  in  a  whining  tone,  which 
was  infinitely  more  disagreeable  to  V^iviana 
than  her  previous  harshness,  "  I  cannot 
leave  you  in  this  state.  Raise  her  head, 
Ruth,  while  I  pour  a  {ew  drops  of  the  cor- 
dial down  her  throat." 

"I  will  not  taste  it,"  replied  V^iviana, 
putting  the  flask  aside. 

"  You  would  find  it  a  sovereign  restora- 
tive," replied  Dame  Ipgreve,  with  a  mor- 
tified look;  "but  as  you  please.  I  will 
not  urge  you  against  your  inclination.  The 
provisions  I  have  been  obliged  to  bring 
you  are  too  coarse  for  a  daintily-nurtured 
maiden  like  you — but  you  shall  have  others 
presently." 

"  It  is  needless,"  rejoined  Viviana. — 
"  Pray  leave  me." 

"  Well,  well,  I  am  going,"  rejoined 
Dame  Ipgreve, hesitating.  "Do  you  want 
to  write  to  any  one?  I  can  find  means  of 
conveying  a  letter  secretly  out  of  the 
Tower." 

"  Ah!"  exclaimed  Viviana,  raising  her- 
self. "  And  yet  no — no — I  dare  not  trust 
you." 

"You  may,"  replied  the  avaricious  old 
woman — "provided  you  pay  me  well." 


GUY    FAWKES. 


117 


"  1  will  think  of  it,"  returned  Viviana. 
"  But  1  have  not  strength  to  write  now." 

"  You  must  not  give  way  thus — indeed, 
you  must  not,  dear  lady,"  said  Ruth,  in  a 
voice  of  great  kindness.  "  It  will  not  be 
safe  to  leave  you.  Suffer  me  to  remain 
with  you." 

"  Willingly,"  replied  Viviana;  "  most 
willingly." 

"  Stay  with  her,  then,  child,"  said  Dame 
Ipgreve.  "  I  will  go  and  prepare  a  nour- 
ishing broth  for  her.  Take  heed,  and 
make  a  shrewd  bargain  with  her  for  thy 
attendance,"  she  added  in  a  hasty  whisper, 
as  she  retired. 

Greatly  relieved  by  the  old  woman's 
departure,  Viviana  turned  to  Ruth,  and 
thanked  her  in  the  warmest  terms  for  her 
kindness.  A  few  minutes  sufficed  to  con- 
vert the  sympathy  which  these  two  young 
persons  evidently  felt  towards  each  other 
into  affectionate  regard,  and  the  jailer's 
daughter  assured  Viviana,  that  so  long  as 
she  should  be  detained,  she  would  devote 
herself  to  her. 

By  this  time,  the  old  woman  had  re- 
turned with  a  mess  of  hot  broth,  which 
she  carried  with  an  air  of  great  mystery 
beneath  her  cloak.  Viviana  was  prevailed 
upon  by  the  solicitations  of  Ruth  to  taste 
it,  and  found  herself  much  revived  in  con- 
sequence. Her  slight  meal  ended.  Dame 
Ipgreve  departed,  with  a  promise  to  return 
in  the  evening  with  such  viands  as  she 
could  manage  to  introduce  unobserved, 
and  with  a  Hask  of  wine. 

"You  will  need  it,  sweet  lady,  I  fear," 
she  said;  "for  my  husband  tells  me  you 
are  in  peril  of  the  torture.  Oh!  it  is  a  sad 
thing,  that  such  as  you  should  be  so 
cruelly  dealt  with!  But  we  will  take  all 
care  of  you  we  can.  You  will  not  forget 
to  requite  us.  You  must  give  me  an 
order  on  your  steward,  or  on  some  rich 
Catholic  friend.  1  am  half  a  Papist  my- 
self—that is,  I  like  one  religion  as  well  as 
the  other — and  I  like  those  best,  whatever 
their  creed  may  be,  who  pay  best.  That 
is  my  maxim.  And  it  is  the  same  with 
my  husband.  We  do  all  we  can  to  scrape 
together  a  penny  for  our  child." 

"  No  more  of  this,  good  mother,"  inter- 
rupteil  Ruth.  "  It  distresses  the  lady.  I 
will  take  care  she  wants  nothing.'' 

"  Right,  child,  right,"  returned  Dame 
Ipgreve; —  "do  not  forget  what  1  told 
you,"  she  added  in  a  whisper. 

And  she  quitted  the  cell. 

Ruth  remained  with  Viviana  during  the 
rest  of  the  day,  and  it  was  a  great  conso- 
lation to  the  latter  to  find  that  her  com- 
panion was  of  the  same  faith  as  herself — 
having  been  converted  by  Father  Poole,  a 
Romish  priest  who  was  confined  in  the 
Tower  during  the  latter  part  of  Elizabeth's 

11 


reign,  and  whose  sufferings  and  constancy 
for  his  religion  had  made  a  powerful  im- 
pression on  the  jailer's  daughter.  As 
soon  as  Viviana  ascertained  this,  she 
made  Ruth,  so  far  as  she  thought  prudent, 
a  confidante  in  her  misfortunes,  and  after 
beguiling  some  hours  in  conversation,  they 
both  knelt  down  and  offered  up  fervent 
prayers  to  the  Virgin.  Ruth  then  departed, 
promising  to  return  in  the  evening  with 
her  mother. 

Soon  after  it  became  dark.  Dame  Ip- 
greve and  her  daughter  re-appeared,  the 
former  carrying  a  lamp,  and  the  latter  a 
basket  of  provisions.  Ruth's  countenance 
was  so  troubled,  that  Viviana  was  certain 
that  some  fresh  calamity  was  at  hand. 

"  What  is  the  matterl"  she  hastily  de- 
manded. 

"  Make  your  meal  first,  dear  young 
lady,"  replied  Dame  Ipgreve.  "  Our 
news  tnight  take  away  your  appetite,  and 
you  will  have  to  pay  for  your  supper, 
whether  you  eat  it  or  not." 

"  You  alarm  me  greatly,"  cried  Vivi- 
ana, anxiously.  "  VVhat  ill  news  do  you 
bring]" 

"  I  will  not  keep  you  longer  in  sus- 
pense, madam,"  said  Ruth.  "  You  are  to 
be  examined  to-night  by  the  lieutenant  and 
certain  members  of  the  Privy  Council,  and 
if  you  refuse  to  answer  their  questions,  I 
lament  to  say  you  will  be  put  to  the  tor- 
ture." 

"Heaven  give  me  strength  to  endure 
it!"  ejaculated  Viviana,  in  a  despairing 
tone. 

"  Eat,  madam,  eat,"  cried  Dame  Ipgreve, 
pressing  the  viands  upon  her.  "  You  will 
never  be  able  to  go  through  with  the  ex« 
amination,  if  you  starve  yourself  in  this 
way." 

"  Are  you  sure,"  inquired  Vivianu,  ap- 
pealing to  Ruth,  "  that  it  will  take  place 
so  soon?" 

"  Quite  sure,"  replied  Ruth.  "  My 
father  has  orders  to  attend  the  lieutenant 
at  midnight." 

"  Let  me  advise  you  to  conceal  no- 
thing," insinuated  the  old  woman.  "  They 
are  determined  to  wring  the  truth  from 
you — and  they  icill  do  so." 

"  You  are  mistaken,  good  woman,"  re- 
plied Viviana,  firmly.  "  I  will  die  before 
I  utter  a  word." 

"  You  think  so  now,"  returned  Dame 
Ipgreve,  maliciously.  "  But  the  sight  of 
the  rack  and  the  thumbscrews  will  alter 
your  tone.   At  all  events,  support  nature." 

"No,"  replied  Viviana;  "as  1  do  not 
desire  to  live,  I  will  use  no  effort  to  sus- 
tain myself.  They  may  kill  me  if  they 
please." 

"  Misfortune  has  turned  her  brain," 
muttered  the  old  woman.     "  I  must  take 


118 


GUY    FAWKES. 


care  and  secure  my  duos.  Well,  madam, 
if  you  will  not  cat  the  supper  I  have  pro- 
vided, it  cannot  lie  helped.  I  must  find 
some  one  who  will.  You  must  pay  for  it 
all  the  same.  My  husband,  Jasper  Ip- 
greve,  will  be  present  at  your  interroira- 
lion,  and  I  am  sure,  for  my  sake,  he  will 
use  you  as  lightly  as  he  can.  Come,  Ruth, 
you  must  not  remain  here  ionnfer." 

"Oh,  let  her  stay  with  me,"  implored 
Viviaua.  "  I  will  make  it  well  worth 
your  while  to  grant  me  the  indulgence." 

"  What  will  you  givel"  cried  the  old 
woman  eagerly.  "  Uut  no — no — I  dare 
not  leave  her.  The  lieutenant  may  visit 
you,  and  find  her,  and  tluMi  I  should  lose 
my  place.  Come  along,  Ruth.  She  shall 
attend  you  after  the  interrogation,  madam. 
I  shall  he  there  myself." 

"Farewell,  madam,"  sobbed  Ruth,  who 
was  almost  drowned  in  tears.  "  Heaven 
grant  you  constancy  to  endure  your  trial!" 

"  Be  ruled  by  me,"  said  the  old  woman. 
"Speak  out,  and  secure  your  own  safety." 

She  would  have  continued  in  the  same 
strain,  but  Ruth  dragged  her  away.  And 
casting  a  commiserating  glance  at  Vivi- 
ana,  she  closed  the  door. 

The  dreadful  interval  between  their  de- 
parture and  midnight  was  passed  by  Vivi- 
ana  in  fervent  prayer.  As  she  heard 
through  the  barred  embrasure  of  her  dun- 
geon the  deep  strokes  of  the  clock  toll  out 
the  hour  of  twelve,  the  door  opened,  and  a 
tall,  gaunt  personage,  habited  in  a  suit  of 
rusty  black,  and  with  a  large  bunch  of 
keys  at  his  girdle,  entered  the  cell. 

"  You  are  .Jasper  Ipgreve,"  said  Vivi- 
ana,  rising. 

"  Right,"  replied  the  jailer.  "  I  am 
come  to  take  you  before  the  lieutenant  and 
the  council.     Are  you  ready]" 

Viviana  replied  in  the  affirmative,  and 
Ipgreve  quitting  the  cell,  outside  which 
two  other  ofhcials  in  sable  habiliments 
were  stationed,  led  the  way  down  a  short 
spiral  staircase,  which  brought  them  to  a 
narrow  vaulted  passage.  Pursuing  it  for 
some  time  the  jailer  halted  before  a  strong 
door,  cased  with  iron,  and,  opening  it,  ad- 
mitted the  captive  into  a  square  chamber, 
the  roof  of  which  was  supported  by  a 
heavy  stone  pillar,  while  its  walls  were 
garnished  with  implements  of  torture.  At 
a  table  on  the  left  sat  the  lieutenant  and 
three  other  grave-looking  personages. — 
Across  the  lower  end  of  the  chamber  a 
thick  black  curtain  was  stretched,  hiding 
a  deep  recess;  and  behind  it,  as  was  evi- 
dent iVom  the  glimmer  that  escaped  from 
its  folds,  there  was  a  light.  Certain  in- 
distinct, but  ominous  sounds,  issuing  from 
the  recess,  proved  that  there  were  persons 
within  it,  and  Viviana's  (juaking  heart  told 
her  what  was  ihenature  of  theirproceedings. 


She  had  ample  time  to  survey  this  dis- 
mal apartment,  and  its  occupants,  for  seve- 
ral minutes  elapsed  before  a  word  was  ad- 
dressed to  her  by  her  interrogators,  who 
continued  to  confer  together  in  an  under- 
tone, as  if  unconscious  of  her  presence. — 
During  this  pause,  broken  only  by  the 
ominous  sounds  before-mentioned,  Viviana 
scanned  the  countenances  of  the  group  at 
the  table,  in  the  hope  of  discerning  in  them 
some  glimpses  of  compassion;  but  they 
were  inscrutable  and  inexorable,  and 
scarcely  less  dreadful  to  look  upon  than 
the  hideous  implements  on  the  walls. 

Viviana  wished  the  earth  would  open 
and  swallow  her,  that  she  might  escape 
from  them.  Anything  was  better  than  to 
be  left  at  the  mercy  of  such  men.  At  cer- 
tain times,  and  not  uufrequently  at  the 
most  awful  moments,  a  double  current  of 
thought  will  flow  through  the  brain,  and 
at  this  frightful  juncture  it  was  so  with 
Viviana.  While  shuddering  at  all  she 
saw  around  her,  nay  dwelling  upon  it, 
another  and  distinct  train  of  thought  led 
her  back  to  former  scenes  of  happiness, 
when  she  was  undisturbed  by  any  but  re- 
mote apprehensions  of  danger.  She 
thought  of  her  tranquil  residence  at  Ord- 
sall — of  the  flowers  she  had  tended  in  the 
garden — of  her  father,  and  of  his  affection 
for  her — of  Humphrey  Chetham,  and  of 
her  early  and  scarce-acknowledged  attach- 
ment to  him — and  of  his  generosity  and 
devotion,  and  how  she  had  requited  it. 
And  then,  like  a  sullen  cloud  darkening 
the  fair  prospect,  arose  the  figure  of  Guy 
Fawkes — the  sombre  enthusiast — who  had 
unwittingly  exercised  such  a  baneful  in- 
fluence upon  iier  fortunes. 

"  Had  he  not  crossed  my  path,"  she 
mentally  ejaculated,  "I  might  have  been 
happy— might  have  loved  Humphrey  Chet- 
ham— might,  perhaps,  have  wedded  him!" 

These  reflections  were  suddenly  dis- 
persed by  the  lieutenant,  who  in  a  stern 
tone  commenced  his  interrogations. 

As  upon  her  previous  examination,  Vi- 
viana observed  the  utmost  caution,  and 
either  refused  to  speak,  or  answered  such 
questions  only  as  alFected  herself.  At 
first,  in  spite  of  all  her  efforts,  she  trem- 
bled violently,  and  her  tongue  clove  to  the 
roof  of  her  mouth.  But  after  a  while,  she 
recovered  her  courage,  and  regarded  the 
lieutenant  with  a  look  as  determined  as 
his  own. 

"  It  is  useless  to  urge  me  farther,"  she 
concluded.     "  I  have  said  all  I  will  say." 

"  Is  it  your  pleasure,  my  lords,"  ob- 
served Sir  \\'illiam  Waad  to  the  others, 
"  to  prolong  the  examination?" 

His  companions  replied  in  the  negative, 
and  the  one  nearest  him  remarked,  "  Is  she 
aware  what  will  follow'?" 


GUY    FAWKES. 


119 


"I  am,"  replied  Viviana  resolutely, 
"  and  1  am  not  to  be  intimidated." 

Sir  William  Waad  then  made  a  sign  to 
Ipgreve,  who  immediatel)'  stepped  forward 
and  seized  her  arm.  "  You  will  be  taken 
to  that  recess,"  said  the  lieutenant, 
"  where  the  question  will  be  put  to  you. 
But  as  we  shall  remain  here,  you  have 
only  to  utter  a  cry  if  you  are  willing  to 
avow  the  truth,  and  the  torture  shall  be 
stayed.  And  it  is  our  merciful  hope  that 
this  may  be  the  case." 

Summoning  up  all  her  resolution,  and 
walking  with  a  firm  footstep,  Viviana 
passed  with  Ipgreve  behind  the  curtain. 
She  there  beheld  two  men  and  a  woman — 
the  latter  was  the  jailer's  wife,  who  in- 
stantly advanced  to  her,  and  besought  her 
to  confess. 

"There  is  no  help  for  it,  if  you  refuse," 
she  urged;  "  not  all  your  wealth  can  save 
you." 

"Mind  your  own  business,  dame,"  in- 
terposed Ipgreve,  angrily,  "and  assist  her' 
to  unrobe." 

Saying  this,  he  stepped  aside  with  the 
two  men,  one  of  whom  was  the  chirurgeon, 
and  the  other  the  tormentor,  while  Dame 
Ipgreve  helped  to  take  ofl'.Viviana's  gown. 
She  then  tied  a  scarf  over  her  shoulders, 
and  informed  her  husband  she  was  ready. 

The  recess  was  about  twelve  feet  high, 
and  ten  wide.  It  was  crossed  near  the 
roof,  which  was  arched  and  vaulted,  by  a 
heavy  beam,  with  puUies  and  ropes  at 
either  extremity.  But  what  chiefly  at- 
tracted the  unfortunate  captive's  attention, 
was  a  couple  of  iron  gauntlets  attached  to 
it,  about  a  yard  apart.  Upon  the  ground 
under  the  beam,  and  immediately  beneath 
that  part  of  it  where  the  gauntlets  were 
fixed,  were  laid  three  pieces  of  wood  of  a 
few  inches  in  thickness,  and  piled  one 
upon  another. 

"  What  must  1  do]"  inquired  Viviana, 
in  a  hollow  voice,  but  with  unaltered  reso- 
lution, of  the  old  woman. 

"Step  upon  those  pieces  of  wood,  re- 
plied Dame  Ipgreve,  leading  her  towards 
them. 

Viviana  obeyed,  and  as  soon  as  she  had 
set  foot  upon  the  pile,  the  tormentor  placed 
a  joint-stool  beside  her,  and  mounting  it, 
desired  her  to  place  her  right  hand  in  one 
of  the  gauntlets.  She  did  so,  and  the  tor- 
mentor then  turned  a  screw,  which  com- 
pressed the  iron  glove  so  tightly  as  to  give 
her  excruciating  pain.  He  then  got  down, 
and  Ipgreve  demanded  if  he  should  pro- 
ceed. 

A  short  pause  ensued,  but,  notwith- 
standing her  agony,  Viviana  made  no  an- 
swer. The  tormentor  then  ])laced  the 
stool  on  the  left  side,  and  fastened  tiie 
han4  which  was  still  at  liberty  within  the 


other  gauntlet.  The  torture  was  dreadful 
— and  the  fingers  appeared  crushed  by  the 
pressure.  Still,  Viviana  uttered  no  cry. — 
After  another  short  pause,  Ipgreve  said, 

"  You  had  better  let  us  stop  here,  'i'his 
is  mere  child's  play  compared  with  what 
is  to  come." 

No  answer  being  returned,  the  tormen- 
tor took  a  mallet  and  struck  one  of  the 
pieces  of  wood  from  under  Viviana's  feet. 
The  shock  was  dreadful,  and  seemed  to 
dislocate  her  wrists,  while  the  pressure  on 
the  hands  was  increased  in  a  tenfold  de- 
gree. The  poor  sufferer  who  was  resting 
on  the  points  of  her  feet,  felt  that  the  re- 
moval of  the  next  piece  of  wood  would  oc- 
casion almost  intolerable  torture.  Her 
constancy,  however,  did  not  desert  her, 
and,  after  the  question  had  been  repeated 
by  Ipgreve,  the  second  block  was  struck 
away.  She  was  now  suspended  by  her 
hands,  and  the  pain  was  so  exquisite,  that 
nature  gave  v/ay,  and,  uttering  a  piercing 
,^cream,  she  fainted. 

On  recovering,  she  found  herself  stretch- 
ed upon  a  miserable  pallet,  with  Ruth 
watching  beside  her.  A  glance  round  the 
chamber,  which  was  of  solid  stone  ma- 
sonry, with  a  deep  embrasure  on  one  side, 
convinced  her  that  she  had  been  removed 
to  some  other  prison. 

"Where  am  1?"  she  asked,  in  a  faint 
voice. 

"In  the  Well  Tower,  madam,"  replied 
Ruth; — "one  of  the  fortifications  near  the 
moat,  and  now  used  as  a  prison-lodging. 
My  father  dwells  within  it,  and  you  are 
undfeY  hjs  custody." 

"Y^our  father,"  cried  Viviana,  shudder- 
ing as  she  recalled  the  sufferings  she  had 
recently  undergone.  "  Will  he  torture  me 
again]" 

"Not  if  I  can  prevent  it,  dear  lady," 
replied  Ruth.-  "But  hush!  here  comes 
my  mother.     Not  a  word  before  her." 

As  Ruth  spoke,  Dame  Ipgreve,  who  had 
been  lingering  at  the  door,  entered  the 
room.  She  affected  the  greatest  solicitude 
for  Viviana — felt  h.er  pulse — looked  at  the 
bandages  fastened  round  her  swollen  and 
crippled  fingers,  and  concluded  by  counsel- 
ling her  not  to  persist  in  refusing  to  speak. 

"I  dare  not  tell  you  what  tortures  are 
in  store  for  you,"  she  said,  "if  you  con- 
tinue thus  ol)Stinate.     But  they  will  be  a 
thousand  times  worse  than  what  you  en-' 
dured  last  night." 

"  When  will  my  next  interrogation  take 
place]"  in(iuircd  Viviana. 

"A  week  hence,  it  may  be — or  it  may 
be  sooner,"  returned  the  old  woman.  "  It 
depends  upon  the  state  you  are  in — and 
somewiiat  upon  the  fees  you  give  my  hus- 
band— for  he  has  a  voice  with  the  lieu- 
tenant." 


120 


GUY    F  A  W  K  E  S. 


"I  would  give  him  all  I  possess,  if  he 
could  save  me  from  furllier  torture,"  cried 
Viviana. 

"Alas!  alas!"  replied  Dame  Ipgreve, 
"you  ask  more  than  can  be  done.  He 
would  save  you  if  he  could.  But  you  will 
not  let  him.  However,  we  will  do  all  we 
can  to  mitiqrate  your  suflTerinsrs — all  we 
can — provided  you  pay  us.  Stay  with  her, 
child,"  she  added,  with  a  significant  ges- 
ture to  her  daughter,  as  she  quitted  the 
room,  "slay  with  her." 

"My  heart  bleeds  for  you,  madam," 
said  Ruth,  in  accents  of  the  deepest  com- 
iTiiseration,  as  soon  as  they  were  alone. 
"  You  may  depend  upon  my  fidelity.  If  I 
can  contrive  your  escape,  I  will — at  any 
risk  to  myself." 

"  On  no  account,"  replied  Viviana. 
"Do  not  concern  yourself  about  me  more. 
My  earthly  sufferings,  I  feel,  will  have 
terminated  before  further  cruelty  can  be 
practised  upon  me." 

"  Oh!  say  not  so,  madam,"  returned 
Ruth.  "  1  hope — nay,  1  am  sure  you  will 
live  long  and  happily." 

Viviana  shook  her  head,  and  Ruth,  find- 
ing her  very  feeble,  thought  it  better  not 
to  continue  the  conversation.  She,  accord- 
ingly, applied  such  restoratives  as  were  at 
hand,  and  observing  that  the  eyes  of  the 
sufferer  closed  as  if  in  slumber,  glided 
noiselessly  out  of  the  chamber,  and  left  her. 

In  this  way  a  week  passed.  At  the  ex- 
piration of  that  time,  the  chirurgeon  pro- 
nounced her  in  so  precarious  a  state,  that 
if  the  torture  were  repeated,  he  would  not 
answer  for  her  life.  The  interrogation, 
therefore,  was  postponed  for  a  few  days, 
during  which  the  chirurgeon  constantly 
visited  her,  and  by  his  care,  and  the  re- 
storatives she  was  compelled  to  take,  she 
rapidly  regained  her  strength. 

One  day,  after  the  chirurgeon  had  de- 
parted, Ruth  cautiously  closed  the  door, 
and  observed  to  her, 

"  You  are  now  so  far  recovered,  madam, 
as  to  be  able  to  make  an  attempt  to  escape. 
I  have  devised  a  plan,  which  I  will  com- 
municate to  you  to-morrow.  It  must  not 
be  delayed,  or  you  will  have  to  encounter 
a  second  and  more  dreadful  examination." 

"I  will  notattemptit  if  you  are  exposed 
to  risk,"  replied  Viviana. 

"  Heed  me  not,"  returned  Ruth.  "  One 
of  your  friends  has  found  out  your  place 
of  confinement,  and  has  spoken  to  me 
about  you." 

"  What    friend?"    exclaimed    Viviana, 

starting.     "  Guy  Fawkes?— I  mean " 

And  she  hesitated,  while  her  pale  cheeks 
were  suffused  with  blushes. 

"  He  is  named  Humphrey  Chetham," 
returned  Ruth.  "  Like  myself,  he  would 
risk  his  life  to  preserve  you." 


"Tell  him  he  must  not  do  so,"  cried 
Viviana,  eagerly.  "  He  has  done  enough 
— too  much  for  me  already.  I  will  not  ex- 
pose him  to  further  hazard.  Tell  him  so, 
and  entreat  him  to  abandon  the  attempt." 

"  But  I  shall  not  see  him,  dear  lady," 
replied  Ruth.  "Besides,  if  I  read  him 
rightly,  he  is  not  likely  to  be  turned  aside 
by  any  selfish  consideration." 

"You  are  right,  he  is  not,"  groaned 
Viviana.  "But  this  only  adds  to  my  af- 
fliction. Oh!  \{  yon  should  see  him,  dear 
Ruth,  try  to  dissuade  him  from  his  pur- 
pose." 

"  I  will  obey  you,  madam,"  replied  the 
jailer's  daughter.  "  But  I  am  well  assured 
it  will  be  of  no  avail." 

After  some  further  conversation,  Ruth 
retired,  and  Viviana  was  left  alone  for  the 
night.  Except  the  slumber  procured  by 
soporific  potions,  siiehad  known  no  repose 
since  she  had  been  confined  within  the 
Tower;  and  this  night  she  felt  more  than 
usually  restless.  After  ineffectually  en- 
dcavorintj  to  compose  herself,  she  arose, 
and  hastily  robing  herself — a  task  she  per- 
formed with  no  little  difficulty,  her  fingers 
being  almost  useless — continued  to  pace 
her  narrow  chamber. 

It  has  been  mentioned  that  on  one  side 
of  the  cell  there  was  a  deep  embrasure.  It 
was  terminated  by  a  narrow  and  strongly 
grated  loophole,  looking  upon  the  moat. 
Pausing  before  it,  Viviana  gazed  forth. 
The  night  was  pitchy  dark,  and  not  even 
a  solitary  star  could  be  discerned;  but  as 
she  had  no  light  in  her  chamber,  the  gloomi 
outside  was  less  profound  than  that  within. 

While  standing  thus,  buried  in  thought, 
and  longing  for  daybreak,  Viviana  fancied 
she  heard  a  slight  sound  as  of  some  one 
swimming  across  the  moat.  Thinking  she 
might  be  deceived,  she  listened  more  in- 
tently, and  as  the  sound  continued,  she  felt 
sure  she  was  right  in  her  conjecture.  All 
at  once  the  thought  of  Humphrey  Chet- 
ham flashed  upon  her,  and  she  had  no 
doubt  it  must  be  him.  Nor  was  she  wrong. 
The  next  moment,  a  noise  was  heard  as  of 
some  one  clambering  up  the  wall;  a  hand 
grasped  the  bars  of  the  loophole,  which 
was  only  two  or  three  feet  above  the  level 
of  the  water;  and  a  low  voice,  which  she 
instantly  recognised,  pronounced  her  name. 

"  Is  it  Humphrey  Chetham?"  she  asked, 
advancing  as  near  as  she  could  to  the  loop- 
hole. 

"It  is,"  was  the  reply.  "Do  not  des- 
pair. I  will  accomplish  your  liberation. 
I  have  passed  three  days  within  the  Tower, 
and  only  ascertained  your  place  of  confine- 
ment a  few  hours  ago.  I  have  contrived 
a  plan  for  your  escape,  with  the  Jailer's 
daughter,  which  she  will  make  known  to 
you  to-morrow." 


GUY    FAVVKES. 


121 


*'I  cannot  thank  you  sufficiently  for 
your  devotion,"  replied  Viviana,  in  ac- 
cents of  the  deepest  gratitude.  "But  I 
implore  you  to  leave  me  to  my  fate.  I  am 
wretched  enough  now,  heaven  knows,  but 
if  aught  should  happen  to  you,  I  shall  be 
infinitely  more  so.  If  I  possess  any  power 
over  you — and  that  I  do  so,  I  well  know — 
I  entreat — nay,  I  command,  you  to  desist 
from  this  attempt." 

*'I  have  never  yet  disobeyed  you,  Vivi- 
ana," replied  the  young  merchant,  pas- 
sionately— "  nor  will  I  do  so  now.  But 
if  you  bid  me  abandon  you,  I  will  plunge 
into  this  moat,  never  to  rise  again." 

His  manner,  notwithstanding  the  low 
tone  in  which  he  spoke,  was  so  determined, 
that  Viviana  felt  certain  he  would  carry 
his  threat  into  execution;  she  therefore  re- 
joined in  a  mournful  tone, 

"  Well,  be  it  as  you  will.  It  is  in  vain 
to  resist  our  fate.  I  am  destined  to  bring 
misfortune  to  you." 

"  Not  so,"  replied  Chetham.  "  If  I  can 
save  you,  I  would  rather  die  than  live. 
The  jailer's  daughter  will  explain  her  plan 
to  you  to-morrow.  Promise  me  to  accede 
to  it." 

Viviana  reluctantly  assented. 

"  I  shall  quit  the  Tower  at  daybreak," 
pursued  Chetham;  "  and  when  you  are 
once  out  of  it,  hasten  to  the  stairs  beyond 
the  wharf  at  Petty  Wales.  I  will  be  there' 
with  a  boat.     Farewell!" 

As  he  spoke,  he  let  himself  drop  into 
the  water,  but  his  foot  slipping,  the  plunge 
was  louder  than  he  intended,  and  attracted 
the  attention  of  a  sentinel  on  the  ramparts, 
who  immediately  called  out  to  know  what 
was  the  matter,  and  not  receiving  any  an- 
swer, discharged  his  caliver  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  sound. 

Viviana,  who  heard  the  challenge  and 
the  shot,  uttered  a  loud  scream,  and  the 
next  moment,  Ipgreve  and  his  wife  ap- 
peared. The  jailer  glanced  suspiciously 
round  the  room;  but  after  satisfying  him- 
self that  all  was  right,  and  putting  some 
questions  to  the  captive,  which  she  refused 
to  answer,  he  departed  with  his  wife,  and 
carefully  barred  the  door. 

It  is  impossible  to  imagine  greater 
misery  than  Viviana  endured  the  whole  of 
the  night.  The  uncertainty  in  which  she 
was  kept  as  to  Chetham's  fate  was  almost 
insupportable,  and  the  bodily  pain  she  had 
recently  endured  appeared  light  when  com- 

Eared  with  her  present  mental  torture, 
►ay,  at  length,  dawned.  But  it  brought 
with  it  no  Ruth.  Instead  of  this  faithful 
friend.  Dame  Ipgreve  entered  the  chamber 
with  the  morning  meal,  and  her  looks  were 
so  morose  and  distrustful,  that  Viviana 
feared  she  must  have  discovered  her  daugh- 
ter's design.     !She  did  not,  however,  ven- 


ture to  make  a  remark,  but  suffered  the  old 
woman  to  depart  in  silence. 

Giving  up  all  for  lost,  and  concluding 
that  Humphrey  Chetham  had  either  per- 
ished, or  was,  like  herself,  a  prisoner,  Vi- 
viana bitterly  bewailed  his  fate,  and  re- 
proached herself  with  being  unintention- 
ally the  cause  of  it.  Later  in  the  day, 
Ruth  entered  the  cell.  To  Viviana's  eager 
inquiries  she  replied,  that  Humphrey 
Chetham  had  escaped.  Owing  to  the  dark- 
ness, the  sentinel  had  missed  his  aim,  and 
although  the  most  rigorous  search  was  in- 
stituted throughout  the  fortress,  he  had 
contrived  to  elude  observation. 

"Our  attempt,"  pursued  Ruth,  "must 
be  made  this  evening.  The  lieutenant  has 
informed  my  father  that  you  are  to  be  in- 
terrogated at  midnight,  the  chirurgeon 
having  declared  that  you  are  sufficiently 
recovered  to  undergo  the  torture  (if  need- 
ful) a  second  time.  Now  listen  to  me. 
The  occurrence  of  last  night  has  made  my 
mother  suspicious,  and  she  watches  my 
proceedings  with  a  jealous  eye.  She  is  at 
this  moment  with  a  female  prisoner  in  the 
Beauchamp  Tower,  or  I  should  not  be  able 
to  visit  you.  She  has  consented,  how- 
ever, to  let  me  bring  in  your  supper.  You 
must  then  change  dresses  with  me.  Being 
about  my  height,  you  may  easily  pass  for 
me,  and  I  will  take  care  there  is  no  light 
below,  so  that  your  features  will  not  be 
distinguished." 

Viviana  would  have  checked  her,  but 
the  other  would  not  be  interrupted. 

"As  soon  as  you  are  ready,"  she  con- 
tinued, "you  must  lock  the  door  upon  me. 
You  must  then  descend  the  short  flight  of 
steps  before  you,  and  pass  as  quickly  as 
you  can  through  the  room  where  you  will 
see  my  father  and  mother.  As  soon  as 
you  are  out  of  the  door,  turn  to  the  left, 
and  go  straight  forward  to  the  By-ward 
Tower.  Show  this  pass  to  the  warders. 
It  is  made  out  in  my  name,  and  they  will 
suffer  you  to  go  forth.  Do  the  same  with 
the  warders  at  the  next  gate — the  Middle 
Tower — and  again  at  the  Bulwark-Gate. 
That  passed,  you  are  free." 

"And  what  will  become  of  you^' asked 
Viviana,  with  a  bewildered  look. 

"Nevermind  me,"  rejoined  Ruth:  "I 
shall  be  sufficiently  rewarded  if  I  save 
you.  And  now,  farewell.  Be  ready  at 
the  time  aj)pointed." 

"I  cannot  consent,"  returned  Viviana. 
"You  have  no  choice,"  replied   Ruth, 
breaking  from  her,  and  hurrying  out  of  the 
room. 

Time,  as  it  ever  does,  when  expectation 
is  on  the  rack,  appeared  to  pass  with  un- 
usual slowness.  13utas  the  iiour  at  length 
drew  near,  Viviana  wished  it  farther  off. 
It  was  with   the   utmost  trepidation  that 

11* 


122 


GUY     FAWKES. 


she  hearJ  the  key  turn  in  the  lock,  and  be- 
held Ruth  enter  the  cell  with  the  evening 
meal. 

Closinor  the  door,  and  setting  down  the 
provisions,  the  jailer's  daughter  hastily 
divested  herself  of  her  dress,  which  was 
of  brown  serge,  as  well  as  of  her  coif  and 
kerchief,  while  Viviana  imitated  her  ex- 
ample. Without  pausing  to  attire  herself 
in  the  other's  garments,  Ruth  then  assisted 
Viviana  to  put  on  the  dress  she  had  just 
laid  aside,  and  arranged  her  hair  and  the 
head-gear  so  skilfully,  that  the  disguise 
was  complete. 

Hastily  whispering  some  further  in- 
structions to  her,  and  explaining  certain 
peculiarities  in  her  gait  and  deportment, 
she  then  pressed  her  to  her  bosom,  and 
led  her  to  the  door.  Viviana  would  have 
remonstrated,  but  Ruth  pushed  her  through 
it,  and  closed  it. 

There  was  now  no  help,  so  Viviana, 
though  with  great  pain  to  herself,  con- 
trived to  turn  the  key  in  the  lock.  De- 
scending the  steps,  she  found  herself  in  a 
small  circular  chamber,  in  which  Ipgreve 
and  his  wife  were  seated  at  a  table,  dis- 
cussing their  evening  meal.  The  sole 
light  was  afforded  by  a  few  dying  embers 
on  the  hearth. 

"  What,  iias  she  done,  already]"  de- 
manded the  old  woman,  as  Viviana  ap- 
peared. "  Why  hast  thou  not  brought  the 
jelly  with  thee,  if  she  has  not  eaten  it  all, 
and  those  cates,  which  Master  Pilchard, 
the  chirurgeon,  ordered  her.  Go  and  fetch 
them  directly.  They  will  finish  our  repast 
daintily;  and  there  are  other  matters  too, 
which  I  dare  say  she  has  not  touched. 
She  will  pay  for  them,  and  that  will  make 
them  the  sweeter.  Go  back,  I  say.  What 
dost  thou  stand  there  for,  as  if  thou  wert 
thunderstruck]     Dost  hear  me,  or  not?" 

"Let  the  wench  alone,  dame,"  growled 
Ipgreve.     "  You  frighten  her." 

"So  I  mean  to  do,"  replied  the  old 
woman,  "  she  deserves  to  be  frightened. 
Hark  thee,  girl,  we  must  get  an  order  from 
her  on  some  wealthy  Catholic  family  with- 
out delay — for  1  don't  think  she  will  stand 
the  trial  to-night." 

"Nor  I,"  added  Ipgreve,  "especially, 
as  she  is  to  be  placed  on  the  rack." 

"  She  has  a  chain  of  gold   round  her 


throat  1  have  observed,"  said  the  old  wo- 
man; "we  must  get  that." 

"  I  have  it,"  said  Viviana,  in  a  low 
tone,  and  imitating  as  well  as  she  could 
the  accents  of  Ruth.     "  Here  it  is." 

"Did  slie  give  it  thee]"  cried  the  old 
woman,  getting  up,  and  grasping  Vivi- 
ana's  lacerated  fingers  with  such  force, 
that  she  had  difficulty  in  repressing  a 
scream.     "  Did  she  give  it  thee,  I  say]" 

"She  gave  it  me  for  you,"  gasped  Vivi- 
ana.    "  Take  it." 

While  the  old  woman  held  the  chain  to 
the  fire,  and  called  to  her  husband  to  light 
a  lamp,  that  she  might  feast  her  greedy 
eyes  upon  it,  Viviana  flew  to  the  door. 

Just  as  she  reached  it,  the  shrill  voice 
of  Dame  Ipgreve  arrested  her. 

"Come  back!"  cried  the  dame.  "Whith- 
er art  thou  going  at  this  time  of  night]  I 
will  not  have  thee  stir  forth.  Come  back, 
I  say." 

"  Pshaw!  let  her  go,"  interposed  Ip- 
greve. "I  dare  say  she  hath  an  appoint- 
ment on  the  Green  with  young  Nicholas 
Hardesty,  the  warder.  Go,  wench.  Be 
careful  of  thyself,  and  return  within  the 
hour." 

"  If  she  does  not,  she  will  rue  it," 
added  the  dame.  "  Go,  then,  and  I  will 
see  the  prisoner." 

Viviana  required  no  further  permission. 
Starting  off  as  she  had  been  directed  on 
the  left,  she  ran  as  fast  as  her  feet  could 
carry  her;  and,  passing  between  two  arch- 
ed gateways,  soon  reached  the  By-ward 
Tower.  Showing  the  pass  to  the  warder, 
he  chucked  her  under  the  chin,  and,  draw- 
ing an  immense  bolt,  opened  the  wicket, 
and  gallantly  helped  her  to  pass  through 
it.  The  like  good  success  attended  her  at 
the  Middle  Tower,  and  at  the  Bulwark 
Gate.  Scarcely  able  to  credit  her  senses, 
and  doubting  whether  she  was  indeed  free, 
she  hurried  on  till  she  came  to  the  opening 
leading  to  the  stairs  at  Petty  Wales.  As 
she  hesitated,  uncertain  what  to  do,  a  man 
advanced  towards  and  addressed  her  by 
name.  It  was  Humphrey  Chetham.  Over- 
come by  emotion,  Viviana  sank  into  his 
arms,  and  in  another  moment  she  was 
placed  in  a  wherry,  which  was  ordered  to 
be  rowed  towards  Westminster. 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


123 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THE  COUNTERPLOT. 


Startled,  but  not  dismayed — for  he 
was  a  mail  of  great  courage — by  the 
sudden  address  and  appearance  of  Guy 
Fawkes,  Lord  Mounteagle  instantly  sprang 
to  his  feet,  and  drawing  his  sword  put  him- 
self into  a  posture  of  defence. 

"You  have  betrayed  me,"  he  cried, 
seizing  Tresham  with  his  left  hand;  "but 
if  I  fall,  you  shall  fall  with  me." 

"  You  have  betrayed  yourself,  my  lord," 
rejoined  Guy  Fawkes;  "or rather.  Heaven 
has  placed  you  in  our  hands  as  an  instru- 
ment for  the  liberation  of  Viviana  Rad- 
cliffe.     You  must  take  an  oath  of  secrecy 

a  binding  oath — such  as,  being  a  good 
Catholic,  you  cannot  break — not  to  divulge 
what  has  come  to  your  knowledge.  Nay, 
you  must  join  me  and  my  confederates,  or 
you  quit  not  this  spot  with  life." 

"  1  refuse  your  terms,"  replied  Mount- 
eagle,  resolutely,  "  I  will  never  conspire 
against  the  monarch  to  whom  I  have 
sworn  allegiance.  I  will  not  join  you. 
I  will  not  aid  you  in  procuring  Viviana 
Radcliffe's  release.  Nor  will  1  take  the 
oath  you  propose.  On  the  contrary,  I  ar- 
rest you  as  a  traitor,  and  I  command  you, 
Tresham,  in  the  King's  name,  to  assist  me 
in  his  capture." 

But  suddenly  extricating  himself  from 
the  grasp  imposed  upon  him,  and  placing 
Guy  Fawkes  between  him  and  the  earl, 
Tresham  rejoined — 

"It  is  time  to  throw  off  the  mask,  my 
good  lord  and  brother.  I  can  render  you 
no  assistance.  1  am  sworn  to  this  league, 
and  must  support  it.  Unless  you  assent 
to  the  conditions  proposed — and  which 
for  your  own  sake  1  would  counsel  you  to 
do — 1  must,  despite  our  near  relationship, 
take  part  against  you — even,"  he  added, 
significantly,  "if  your  destruction  should 
be  resolved  upon." 

"  I  will  sell  my  life  dearly,  as  you  shall 
find,"  replied  Mounteagle.  "And,  but  for 
the  sake  of  my  dear  lady,  your  sister,  I 
would  stab  you  where  you  stand." 

"  Your  lordship  will  find  resistance  in 
vain,"  replied  Guy  F'awkes,  keeping  his 
eye  steadily  fixed  upon  him.  "  We  seek 
not  your  life,  but  your  co-operation.  You 
are  a  prisoner." 

"A  prisoner!"  echoed  Mounteagle,  deri- 
sively.    "  You  have  not  secured  me  yet." 

As  he  spoke  he  rushed  towards  the  door, 
but  his  departure  was  checked  by  Bates, 
who  presented  himself  at  the  entrance  of 
the  passage  with  a  drawn  sword  in  his 
hand.    At  the  same  moment,  Catesby,  and 


Keyes  issued  from  the  closet,  while  Gar- 
net and  the  other  conspirators  likewise 
emerged  from  their  hiding-places.  Hear- 
ing the  noise  behind  him,  Lord  Mounteagle 
turned,  and  beholding  the  group,  uttered 
an  exclamation  of  surprise  and  rage. 

"  I  am  fairly  entrapped,"  he  said,  sheath- 
ing his  sword,  and  advancing  towards  them. 
"  Fool  that  I  was,  to  venture  hither." 

"  These  regrets  are  too  late  my  lord," 
replied  Catesby.  "  You  came  hither  of 
your  own  accord.  But,  being  here,  no- 
thing, except  compliance  wnth  our  de- 
mands, can  insure  your  departure." 

"  Yes,  one  thing  else,"  thought  Mount- 
eagle— "  cunning.  It  shall  go  hard  if  I 
cannot  outwit  you.  Tresham  will  act 
with  me.  I  know  his  treacherous  nature 
too  well  to  doubt  which  way  he  will  in- 
cline. Interest,  as  well  as  relationship, 
binds  him  to  me.  He  will  acquaint  me 
with  their  plans.  I  need  not,  therefore, 
compromise  myself  by  joining  them.  If  1 
take  the  oath  of  secrecy,  it  will  suffice — 
and  I  will  find  means  of  eluding  the  obli- 
gation. I  may  thus  make  my  own  bargain 
with  Salisbury.  But  I  must  proceed  cau- 
tiously. Too  sudden  a  compliance  might 
awaken  their  suspicions." 

"  My  lord,"  said  Catesby,  who  had 
watched  his  countenance  narrowly,  and 
distrusted  its  expression,  "  we  must  have 
no  double-dealing.  Any  attempt  to  play 
us  false  will  prove  fatal  to  you." 

"  I  have  not  yet  consented  to  your  terms, 
Mr.  Catesby,"  replied  Mounteagle,  "and 
I  demand  a  few  moments'  reflection  before 
I  do  so." 

"  What  say  you,  gentlemen?"  said 
Catesby.  "Do  you  agree  to  his  lordship's 
requesf!" 

There  was  a  general  answer  in  the 
affirmative. 

"  I  would  also  confer  for  a  moment 
alone  with  my  brother,  Tresham,"  said 
Mounteagle. 

"That  cannot  be,  my  lord,"  rejoined 
Garnet  peremptorily.  "And  take  heed 
you  meditate  no  treachery  towards  us,  or 
you  will  destroy  yourself  here  and  here- 
after." 

"  I  have  no  desire  to  speak  with  him, 
father,"  observed  Tresham.  "  Let  him 
declare  what  he  has  to  say  before  you  all." 

Mounteagle  looked  hard  at  him,  but  he 
made  no  remark. 

"  In  my  opinion,  we  ought  not  to  trust 
him,"  observed  Keyes.  "It  is  plain  he  is 
decidedly  opposed  to  us.    And  if  the  oath 


124 


GUY    FAWKES. 


is  proposed  to  him,  he  may  take  it  with 
some  mental  reservation." 

"i  will  guard  against  that,"  replied 
Garnet. 

"  If  I  take  the  oath  I  will  keep  it,  fa- 
ther," rejoined  Mounteagle.  "  But  I  have 
not  yet  decided." 

"  You  must  do  so,  then,  quickly,  my 
lord,"  returned  Catesby.  "  You  shall 
have  five  minutes  for  reflection.  But  first, 
you  must  deliver  up  your  sword." 

The  earl  started. 

"  We  mean  you  no  treachery,  my  lord," 
observed  Keyes,  "  and  expect  to  be  dealt 
with  with  equal  fairness." 

Surrendering  his  sword  to  Catesby, 
Mounteagle  then  walked  to  the  farther  end 
of  the  room,  and  leaning  against  the  wall, 
with  liis  back  to  the  conspirators,  appeared 
buried  in  thought. 

"Take  Tresham  aside,"  whispered 
Catesby  to  Wright.  "I  do  not  wish  him 
to  overhear  our  conference.  Watch  him 
narrowly,  and  see  that  no  signal  passes 
between  him  and  Lord  Mounteagle." 

Wright  obeyed;  and  the  others  gather- 
ing closely  together,  began  to  converse  in 
a  low  tone. 

"It  will  not  do  to  put  him  to  death," 
observed  Garnet.  "  From  what  he  stated 
to  Tresham,  it  appears  that  his  servant 
was  aware  of  his  coming  hither.  If  he 
disappears,  therefore,  search  will  be  im- 
mediately made,  and  all  will  be  discovered. 
We  must  either  instantly  secure  ourselves 
by  flight,  and  give  up  the  enterprise,  or 
trust  him." 

"  You  are  right,  father,"  replied  Rook- 
wood.     "The  danger  is  imminent." 

"  We  are  safe  at  present,"  observed 
Percy,  "  and  may  escape  to  France  or 
Flanders  before  information  can  be  given 
against  us.  Nay,  we  may  carry  off  Mount- 
eagle with  us,  for  that  matter.  But  I  am 
loth  to  trust  him." 

"So  am  1,"  rejoined  Catesby.  "  I  do 
not  like  his  looks." 

"There  is  no  help,"  said  Fawkes.  "We 
must  trust  him,  or  give  up  the  enterprise. 
He  may  materially  aid  us,  and  has  him- 
self asserted  that  he  can  procure  Yiviana's 
liberation  from  the  Tower." 

"  Pshaw!"  exclaimed  Catesby,  im- 
patiently. "  What  has  that  do  with  the 
all-important  question  we  are  now  con- 
sidering'?" 

"Much,"  returned  Fawkes.  "And  1 
will  not  move  further  in  the  matter,  unless 
that  point  is  insisted  on." 

"  You  have  become  strangely  interested 
in  Viviana  of  late,"  observed  Catesby, 
earcastically.  "  Could  I  suspect  you  of  so 
light  a  passion,  I  should  say  you  loved 
her." 

A  desp  flush  dyed  Fakwes's  swarthy 


cheeks,  but  he  answered  in  a  voice  of  con- 
strained calmness, 

"  I  do  love  her — as  a  daughter." 

"  Humph!"  exclaimed  the  other,  drily. 

"Catesby,"  rejoined  Fawkes,  sternly, 
"  you  know  me  well — too  well,  to  sup- 
pose I  would  resort  to  any  paltry  subter- 
luge.  I  am  willing  to  let  what  you  have 
said  pass.  But  I  counsel  you  not  to  jest 
thus  in  future." 

"Jest!"  exclaimed  Catesby.  "I  was 
never  more  serious  in  my  life." 

"  Tiien  you  do  me  wrong,"  retorted 
Fawkes,  fiercely:  "  and  you  will  repeat 
the  insinuation  at  your  peril." 

"  My  sons — my  sons,"  interposed  Gar- 
net, "  what  means  this  sudden — this  need- 
less quarrel,  at  a  moment  when  we  require 
the  utmost  calmness  to  meet  the  danger 
that  assails  us]  Guy  Fawkes  is  right. 
Viviana  must  be  saved.  If  we  desert  her, 
our  cause  will  never  prosper.  But  let  us 
proceed  step  by  step,  and  first  decide  upon 
what  is  to  be  done  with  Lord  Mounteagle." 

"  I  am  filled  with  perplexity,"  replied 
Catesby. 

"  Then  I  will  decide  for  you,"  replied 
Percy.  "  Our  project  must  be  abandoned." 

"Never,"  replied  Fawkes,  energetical- 
ly. "  Fly,  and  secure  your  own  safety.  I 
will  stay  and  accomplish  it  alone." 

"  A  brave  resolution!"  exclaimed  Cates- 
by, tendering  him  his  hand,  which  the 
oilier  cordially  grasped.  "  I  will  stand  by 
j'ou  to  the  last.  No — we  have  advanced 
too  far  to  retreat." 

"Additional  caution  will  be  needful," 
observed  Keyes.  "  Can  we  not  make  it  a 
condition  with  Lord  Mounteagle  to  retire, 
till  the  blow  is  struck,  to  his  mansion  at 
Hoxtoni" 

"  That  would  be  of  no  avail,"  replied 
Garnet.  "  We  must  trust  him  wholly,  or 
not  at  all." 

"  There  I  agree  with  you,  father,"  said 
Percy.  "  Let  us  propose  the  oath  of 
secrecy  to  him,  and  detain  him  here  until 
we  have  found  some  secure  retreat,  utterly 
unknown  to  him,  or  to  Tresham,  whence 
we  can  correspond  with  our  friends.  A 
few  days  will  show  whether  he  has  be- 
trayed us  or  not.  We  need  not  visit  this 
place  again  till  the  moment  for  action  ar- 
rives." 

"  You  need  not  visit  it  again  at  all,"  re- 
joined Fawkes.  "  Everything  is  prepared, 
and  I  will  undertake  to  fire  the  train. 
Prepare  for  what  is  to  follow  the  explo- 
sion, and  leave  the  management  of  that  to 
mc." 

"  I  cannot  consent  to  such  a  course,  my 
son,"  said  Garnet.  "  Tiie  whole  risk  will 
thus  be  yours." 

"The  whole  glory  will  be  mine,  also, 
father,"  rejoined  Fawkes,  enlhusiastical- 


GUY    FAWKES. 


125 


ly.     "I  pray  you,  let  me  have  my  own 
way." 

"  Well,  be  it  as  you  will,  my  son,"  re- 
turned Garnet,  with  affected  reluctance. 
"I  will  not  oppose  the  hand  of  heaven, 
which  clearly  points  yon  out  as  the  chief 
agent  in  this  mighty  enterprise.  '  In  re- 
ference to  what  Percy  has  said  about  a  re- 
treat till  Lord  Mounteagle's  trust-worthi- 
ness can  be  ascertained,"  he  added  to 
Catesby,  "  I  have  just  bethought  me  of  a 
large  retired  house  on  the  borders  of  En- 
field Chace,  called  White  Webbs.  It  has 
been  recently  taken  by  Mrs.  Brooksby, 
and  her  sister,  Anne  Vaux,  and  will  afford 
us  a  safe  asylum." 

"  An  excellent  plan,  father,"  cried 
Catesby.  "  Since  Guy  Fawkes  is  will- 
ing to  undertake  the  risk,  we  will  leave 
Lord  Mounteagle  in  his  charge,  and  go 
there  at  once." 

"  What  must  be  done  with  Tresham?" 
asked  Percy.  "We  cannot  take  him  with 
us,  nor  must  he  know  of  our  retreat." 

"  Leave  him  with  me,"  said  Fawkes. 

"You  will  be  at  a  disadvantage,"  ob- 
served Catesby,  "should  he  take  part,  as 
there  is  reason  to  fear  he  may  do,  with 
Lord  Mounteagle." 

"They  are  both  unarmed,"  returned 
Fawkes,  "  but  were  it  otherwise,  I  would 
answer  with  my  head  for  their  detention." 

"  All  good  saints  guard  you,  my  son!" 
exclaimed  Garnet.  "  Henceforth  we  re- 
sign the  custody  of  the  powder  to  you." 

"It  will  be  in  safe  keeping,"  replied 
Fawkes. 

The  party  then  advanced  towards  Lord 
Mounteagle,  who,  hearing  their  approach, 
instantly  faced  tliem. 

"Your  decision,  my  lord?"  demanded 
Catesby. 

"  You  shall  have  it  in  a  word,  sir,"  re- 
plied Mounteagle,  firmly.  "I  will  not 
join  you,  but  I  will  take  the  required  oath 
of  secrecy." 

"Is  this  your  final  resolve,  my  lord?" 
rejoined  Catesby. 

"  It  is,"  replied  the  earl. 

"  It  must  content  us,"  observed  Garnet; 
"  though  we  hoped  you  would  have  lent 
your  active  services  to  further  a  cause, 
having  for  its  sole  object  the  restoration  of 
the  church  to  which  you  belong." 

"  I  know  not  the  means  whereby  you 
propose  to  restore  it,  father,"  replied 
Mounteajrle,  "  and  I  do  not  desire  to  know 
them.  But  I  guess  that  they  are  dark  and 
bloody,  and  as  such  1  can  take  no  part  in 
them." 

"  And  you  refuse  to  give  us  any  counsel 
or  assistance]"  pursued  Garnet, 

"I  will  not  betray  you,"  replied  Mount- 
eagle.    "I  can  say  nothing  further." 

"I  would  rather  lie  promised  loo  little, 


than   too   much,"   whispered    Catesby  to 
Garnet.     "I  begin  to  think  him  sincere." 
"  I  am  of  the  same  opinion,  my  son," 
returned  Garnet. 

"One  thing  you  shall  do,  before  /con- 
sent to  set  you  free,  on  any  terms,  my 
lord,"  observed  Guy  Fawkts.  "You 
shall  engage  to  procure  the  liberation  of 
Viviana  Radcliffe  from  the  Tower.  You 
told  Tresham  you  could  easily  accom- 
plish it." 

"I  scarcely  knew  what  I  said,"  replied 
Mounteagle,  with  a  look  of  embarrassment. 
"  You  spoke  confidently,  my  lord,"  re- 
joined Fawkes. 

"  Because  I  had  no  idea  I  should  be 
compelled  to  make  good  my  words,"  re- 
turned the  earl.  "  But,  as  a  Catholic, 
and  related  by  marriage  to  Tresham,  who 
is  a  suspected  person,  any  active  exertions 
in  her  behalf  on  my  part  might  place  me 
in  jeopardy." 

"  This  excuse  shall  not  avail  you,  my 
lord,"  replied  Fawkes.  "You  must 
weigh  your  own  safety  against  hers.  You 
stir  not  hence,  till  you  have  sworn  to  free 
her." 

"I  must  perforce  assent,  since  you  will 
have  no  refusal,"  replied  Mounteagle — 
"But  I  almost  despair  of  success.  If  I 
ca7i  effect  her  deliverance,  I  swear  to  do 
so." 

"  Enough,"  replied  Fawkes. 
"  And  now,  gentlemen,"  said  Catesby, 
appealing  to  the  others,  "are  you  willing 
to  let  Lord  Mounteagle  depart  upon  the 
proposed  terms'?" 

"  We  are,"  they  replied. 
"I  will  administer  the  oath  at  once," 
said  Garnet;  "  and  you  will  bear  in  mind, 
my  son,"  he  added,  in  a  stern  tone  to  the 
earl,  "that  it  will  he  one  which  cannot 
be  violated  without  perdition  to  your  soul." 
"  I  am  willing  to  take  it,"  replied 
Mounteagle. 

Producing  a  primer,  and  motioning  the 
earl,  to  kneel  before  him,  Garnet  then 
proposed  an  oath  of  the  luost  solemn  and 
binding  description.  The  other  repeated 
it  after  him,  and  at  its  conclusion  placed 
lh(!  book  to  his  lips. 

"  Are  you  satisfied?"  he  asked,  rising. 
"I  aiTfi,"  replied  Garnet. 
"And  so  am  I,"  thought  Tresham,  who 
stood  in  the  rear,  " —  that  he  will  perjure 
himself" 

"  Am  I  now  at  liberty  to  deparll"  in- 
quired the  earl. 

"  Not  yet,  my  lord,"  replied  Catesby. 
"You  must  remain  here  till  midnight." 

Lord  Mounteagle  looked  uneasy,  but 
seeing  remonstrance  would  be  useless,  he 
preserved  a  sullen  silence. 

"  You  need  have  no  fear,  my  lord," 
said  (Jatcsby.     "  But  we  must  take  such 


126 


GUY     FAVVKES. 


precautions  as  will  ensure  our  safety,  in 
case  you  intend  us  any  treachery." 

"  You  cannot  doubt  me,  sir,  after  the 
oath  I  have  taken,"  replied  Mounteatjlp, 
haughtily.  *'  But  since  you  constitute 
yourself  my  jailer,  I  must  abide  your  plea- 
sure." 

"  If  I  am  your  jailer,  my  lord,"  rejoined 
Calesby,  "1  will  prove  to  you  that  I  am 
not  neglectful  of  my  ofiice.  Will  it  please 
you  to  lollovv  me]" 

The  earl  bowed  in  acquiescence;  and 
Catesby  marching  before  him  to  a  small 
room,  llie  windows  of  which  were  care- 
fully barred,  pointed  to  a  chair,  and  in- 
stantly retiring-,  locked  the  door  upon  him. 
He  tiien  returned  to  the  others,  and  taking 
Guy  Fawkes  aside,  observed  in  a  low 
tone, 

"  We  shall  set  out  instantly  for  White 
Webbs.  You  will  remain  on  guard  with 
Tresham,  whom  you  will  of  course,  keep 
in  ignorance  of  our  proceedings.  After 
you  have  set  the  earl  at  liberty,  you  can 
follow  us,  if  you  choose.  13ut  take  heed 
you  are  not  observed." 

"Fear  nothing,"  replied  Fawkes. 

Soon  after  this,  Catesby,  and  the  rest  of 
the  conspirators,  with  the  exception  of 
Guy  Fawkes  and  Tresham,  quitted  the 
room,  and  the  former  concluded  they  were 
about  to  leave  the  house.  He  made  no 
remark,  however,  to  his  companion,  but 
getting  between  him  and  the  door,  folded 
his  arms  upon  his  breast,  and  continued  to 
pace  backwards  and  forwards  before  it. 

"  Am  1  a  prisoner  as  well  as  Lord  Mount- 
eagle?"  asked  Tresham,  after  a  pause. 

"  You  must  remain  with  me  here  till 
midnight,"  replied  Fawkes.  "  We  shall 
not  be  disturbed." 

"What!  are  the  others  gone?"  cried 
Tresham. 

"  They  are,"  was  the  reply. 

Tresham's  countenance  fell,  and  he  ap- 
peared to  be  meditating  some  project, 
which  he  could  not  muster  courage  to  exe- 
cute. 

"Be  warned  by  the  past,  Tresham," 
said  Fawkes,  who  had  regarded  him  fix- 
edly for  some  minutes.  "  If  I  find  reason 
to  doubt  you,  I  will  put  it  out  of  your 
power  to  betray  us  a  second  time." 

"  You  have  no  reason  to  doubt  me," 
replied  Tresham,  with  apparent  candor. 
"  I  only  wondered  that  our  friends  should 
leave  me  without  any  intimation  of  their 
purpose.  It  is  for  me,  not  you,  to  appre- 
hend some  ill  design.  Am  I  not  to  act 
with  you  furtherV 

"  That  depends  upon  yourself,  and  on 
the  proofs  you  give  of  your  sincerity,"  re- 
plied Fawkes.  "  Answer  me  frankly.  Do 
you  think  Lord  Mounteagle  will  keep  his 
oath?" 


"  1  will  stake  my  life  upon  it,"  replied 
Tresham. 

The  conversation  then  dropped,  and  no 
attempt  was  made  on  either  side  to  renew 
it.  In  this  way  several  hours  passed, 
when  at  length  the  silence  was  broken  by 
Tresha'm,  who  requested  permission  to  go 
in  search  of  some  refreshment;  and  Guy 
Fawkes  assenting,  they  descended  to  the 
lower  room,  and  partook  of  a  slight  repast. 

Nothing  further  worthy  of  note  occurred. 
On  the  arrival  of  the  appointed  hour,  Guy 
Fawkes  signified  to  his  companion  that 
he  might  liberate  Lord  Mounteagle;  and 
immediately  availing  himself  of  the  per- 
mission, Tresham  repaired  to  the  chamber, 
and  threw  open  the  door.  The  earl  imme- 
diately came  forth,  and  they  returned  to- 
gether to  the  room  in  which  Guy  Fawkes 
remained  on  guard. 

"  You  are  now  at  liberty  to  depart,  my 
lord,"  said  the  latter;  "and  Tresham  can 
accompany  you  if  he  thinks  proper.  Kc- 
meniber  thai  you  are  sworn  to  procure  Vi- 
viana's  liberation." 

"  I  do,"  replied  the  earl. 

And  he  then  quitted  the  house  with 
Tresham. 

"  You  have  had  a  narrow  escape,  my 
lord,"  remarked  the  latter  as  they  ap- 
proached Whitehall,  and  paused  for  a 
moment  under  the  postern  of  the  great 
western  gate. 

"  True,"  replied  the  earl;  "but  I  do  not 
regret  the  risk  I  have  run.  They  are  novir 
wholly  in  my  power." 

"  You  forget  your  oath,  my  lord,"  said 
Tresham. 

"If  I  do,"  replied  the  earl,  "1  but  fol- 
low your  example.  You  have  broken 
one  equally  solemn,  equally  binding,  and 
would  break  a  thousand  more  were  they 
imposed  upon  you.  But  I  will  overthrow 
this  conspiracy,  and  yet  not  violate  mine." 

"  I  see  not  how  that  can  be,  my  lord," 
replied  Tresham. 

"You  shall  learn  in  due  season,"  re- 
plied the  earl.  "  1  have  had  plenty  of 
leisure  for  reflection  in  that  dark  hole,  and 
have  hit  upon  a  plan  which,  I  think,  can- 
not fail." 

"  I  hope  I  am  no  party  to  it,  my  lord," 
rejoined  Tresham.  "  I  dare  not  hazard 
myself  among  them  further." 

"  I  cannot  do  witliout  you,"  replied 
Mounteagle;  "  but  I  will  insure  you 
against  all  danger.  It  will  be  necessary 
for  j^ou,  however,  to  act  with  the  utmost 
discretion,  and  keep  a  constant  guard  upon 
every  look  and  movement,  as  well  as  upon 
your  words.  You  must  fully  regain  the 
confidence  of  these  men,  and  lull  them  into 
security." 

"  I  see  your  lordship's  drift,"  replied 
Tresham.     "  You  wish  them  to  proceed 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


127 


to  the  last  point,  to  enhance  the  value  of 
the  discovery." 

"Right,"  replied  the  earl.  "The  plot 
must  not  be  discovered  till  just  before  its 
outbreak,  when  its  magnitude  and  danger 
will  be  the  more  apparent.  The  reward 
will  then  be  proportionate.  Now,  you 
understand  me,  Tresham." 

"  Fully,"  replied  the  other. 

"  Return  to  your  own  house,"  rejoined 
Mounteagle.  "  We  need  hold  no  further 
communication  together  till  the  lime  for 
action  arrives." 

"And  that  will  not  be  before  the  meet- 
ing of  Parliament,"  replied  Tresham;  "  for 
they  intend  to  whelm  the  King  and  all  his 
nobles  in  one  common  destruction." 

"  By  Heaven!  a  brave  design!"  cried 
Mounteagle.  "It  is  a  pity  to  mar  it.  I 
knew  it  was  a  desperate  and  daring  pro- 
ject, but  should  never  have  conceived 
aught  like  this.  Its  discovery  will  indeed 
occasion  universal  consternation." 

"  It  may  benefit  you  and  me  to  divulge 
it,  my  lord,"  said  Tresham,  "  but  the  dis- 
closure will  deeply  and  lastingly  injure  the 
Church  of  Rome." 


"It  would  injure  it  more  deeply  if  the 
plot  succeeded,"  replied  Mounteagle,  "  be- 
cause all  loyal  Catholics  must  disapprove 
so  horrible  and  sanguinary  a  design.  But 
we  will  not  discuss  the  question  further, 
though  what  you  have  said  confirms  my 
purpose,  and  removes  any  misgiving  I 
might  have  felt  as  to  the  betrayal.  Fare- 
well, Tresham.  Keep  a  watchful  eye  upon 
the  conspirators  and  communicate  with  me 
should  any  change  take  place  in  their  plans. 
We  may  not  meet  for  some  time.  Parlia- 
ment, though  summoned  for  the  third  of 
October,  will,  in  all  probability,  be  pro- 
rogued till  November." 

"  In  that  case,"  replied  Tresham,  "  you 
will  postpone  your  disclosure  likewise  till 
November]" 

"Assuredly,"  replied  Mounteagle.  "The 
King  must  be  be  convinced  of  his  danger. 
If  it  were  found  out  now,  he  would  think 
lightly  of  it.  But  if  he  has  actually  set 
foot  upon  the  mine  which  a  single  spark 
might  kindle  to  his  destruction,  he  will 
duly  appreciate  the  service  rendered  him. 
Farewell!  and  do  not  neglect  my  counsel." 


CHAPTER    X. 


WHITE  WEBBS. 


Tarrving  for  a  short  time  within  the 
house  after  the  departure  of  the  others, 
Guy  Fawkes  lighted  a  lantern,  and  con- 
cealing it  beneath  his  cloak,  proceeded  to 
the  cellar,  to  ascertain  that  the  magazine 
of  powder  was  safe.  Satisfied  of  this,  he 
made  all  secure,  and  was  about  to  return 
to  the  house,  when  he  perceived  a  figure 
approaching  him.  Standing  aside,  but 
keeping  on  his  guard  for  fear  of  a  surprise, 
he  would  have  allowed  the  person  to  pass, 
but  the  other  halted,  and  after  a  moment's 
scrutiny  addressed  him  by  name  in  the 
tones  of  Humphrey  Chetham. 

"You  seem  to  haunt  this  spot,  young 
sir,"  said  Fawkes.  in  answer  to  the  ad- 
dress. "This  is  the  third  time  we  have 
met  hereabouts." 

"On  the  last  occasion,"  replied  Che- 
tham, "  I  told  you  Viviana  was  a  prisoner 
in  the  Tower.  I  have  now  better  news  for 
you.     She  is  free." 

"Free!"  exclaimed  Fawkes,  joyfully. 
"  By  Lord  Mounteagle's  instrumentality] 
But  1  forget.     He  has  only  just  left  me." 

"  She  has  been  freed  by  inij  instrumen- 
tality," replied  the  young  merchant.  "  She 
escaped  from  the  Tower  a  few  hours  ago." 

"Where  is  she?"  demanded  Guy 
Fawkes,  eagerly. 


"  In  a  boat  at  the  stairs  near  the  Parlia- 
ment House,"  replied  Chetham. 

"  Heaven  and  Our  Lady  be  praised!" 
exclaimed  Fawkes.  "This  is  more  than 
I  hoped  for.  Your  news  is  so  good,  young 
sir,  that  I  can  scarce  credit  it." 

"  Come  with  me  to  the  boat,  and  you 
shall  soon  be  satisfied  of  the  truth  of  my 
statement,"  rejoined  Chetham. 

And  followed  by  Guy  Fawkes,  he  hur- 
ried to  the  river  side,  where  a  wherry  was 
moored.  Within  it  sat  Viviana,  covered 
by  the  tilt. 

Assisting  her  to  land,  and  finding  she 
was  too  much  exhausted  to  walk,  Guy 
Fawkes  took  her  in  his  arms,  and  carried 
her  to  the  house  he  had  just  quitted. 

Humphrey  Chetham  followed  as  soon 
as  he  had  dismissed  the  waterman.  Plac- 
ing his  lovely  burthen  in  a  seat,  Guy 
P'awkes  instantly  went  in  search  of  such 
restoratives  as  the  place  afibrded.  Viviana 
was  extremely  faint,  but  after  she  had 
swallowed  a  glass  of  wine,  she  revived, 
and,  looking  around  her,  inquired  where 
she  was. 

"  Do  not  ask,"  replied  Fawkes;  "  let  it 
suffice  you  are  in  safety.  And  now,"  he 
added,  "perhaps,  Humphrey  Chetham 
will  inform  me  in  what  manner  he  con- 


12S 


GUY     FAWKES. 


tiived   your  escape.     I  am   impatient  to 
know." 

The  younnr  merchant  then  jrave  the  re- 
quired information,  and  Viviana-  added- 
such  particulars  as  were  necessary  to  the 
full  understanding  of  the  story.  Guy 
Fawkes  could  scarcely  control  himself 
when  she  related  the  tortures  she  had  en- 
dured, nor  was  Chetham  less  indignant. 

"  You  rescued  me  just  in  time,"  said 
Viviana.  "  I  should  have  sunk  under  the 
next  nppHcation." 

"Thank  Heaven!  you  have  escaped  it," 
exclaimed  Fawkes.  "  You  owe  much  to 
Humphrey  Chetham,  Viviana." 

"  1  do,  indeed,"  she  replied. 

"And  can  you  not  requite  it]"  be  re- 
turned. "  Can  you  not  make  him  h^ppy] 
Can  you  not  make  me  happyl" 

Viviana's  pale  cheek  was  instantly  suf- 
fused with  blushes,  but  she  made  no  an- 
swer. 

"Oh,  Viviana!"  cried  Humphrey  Che- 
tham, "you  hear  what  is  said.  If  you 
could  doubt  my  love  before,  you  must  be 
convinced  of  it  now.  A  hope  will  make 
me  happy.     Have  I  that]" 

"  Alas!  no,"  she  answered.  "  It  would 
be  the  height  of  cruelty,  after  your  kind- 
ness, to  deceive  you.     You  have  not." 

The  young  merchant  turned  aside  to  hide 
his  emotion. 

"  Not  even  a  hope!"  exclaimed  Guy 
Fawkes,  "  after  what  he  has  done.  Vi- 
viana, I  cannot  understand  you.  Does 
gratitude  form  no  part  of  your  nature?" 

"I  hope  so,"  she  replied,  "nay  I  am 
sure  so — for  I  feel  the  deepest  gratitude 
towards  Humphrey  Chetham.  But  grati- 
tude is  not  love,  and  must  not  be  mistaken 
for  it." 

"  I  understand  the  distinction  too  well," 
returned  the  young  merchant,  sadly. 

"It  is  more  than  I  do,"  rejoined  Guy 
Fawkes;  "and  I  will  frankly  confess  that 
I  think  the  important  services  Humphrey 
Chetham  has  rendered  you  entitle  him  to 
to  your  hand.  It  is  seldom — whatever 
poets  may  feign — that  love  is  so  strongly 
proved  as  his  has  been;  and  it  ought  to  be 
adequately  requited." 

"  Say  no  more  about  it,  I  entreat,"  in- 
terposed Chetham. 

"  I3ut  1  will  deliver  my  opinion,"  re- 
joined Guy  Fawkes;  "  because  I  am  sure 
what  I  advise  is  for  Viviana's  happiness. 
No  one  can  love  her  better  than  you.  No 
one  is  more  worthy  of  her.  Nor  is  there 
any  one  to  whom  I  so  much  desire  to  see 
her  united." 

"Oh,  Heaven!"  exclaimed  Viviana. — 
"  This  is  worse  than  the  torture." 

"  What  mean  you]"  exclaimed  Fawkfes, 
in  astonishment. 

"  81ie    means,"    interposed    Chetham, 


"  that  this  is  not  the  fitting  season  to  urge 
the  subject — that  she  will  never  marry." 

"True — true,"  replied  Viviana.  "  If  I 
ever  did  marry — I  ought  to  select  you." 

"  You  ought,"  replied  Fawkes.  "  And 
I  know  nothing  of  the  female  heart,  if  it 
can  be  insensible  to  youth,  devotion,  and 
manly  appearance  like  that  of  Humphrey 
Chetham." 

"  You  do  know  nothing  of  it,"  rejoined 
Chetham,  bitterly.  "  Woman's  fancies 
are  unaccountable." 

"Such  is  the  received  opinion,"  replied 
Fawkes;  "  but  as  I  am  ignorant  of  the  sex, 
I  can  only  judge  from  report.  You  are 
the  person  1  should  imagine  she  would 
love — nay,  to  be  frank,  whom  I  thought 
she  did  love." 

"  No  more,"  said  Humphrey  Chetham. 
"  It  is  painful  both  to  Viviana  and  to  me." 

"This  is  not  a  time  for  delicacy,"  re- 
joined Guy  Fawkes.  "Viviana  has  given 
me  the  privilege  of  a  father  witli  her.  And 
where  her  happiness  is  so  much  concerned 
as  in  the  present  case,  I  should  imperfectly 
discharge  my  duty  if  I  did  not  speak  out. 
It  would  sincerely  rejoice  me,  and  I  am 
sure  contribute  materially  to  her  own  hap- 
piness, if  she  would  unite  herself  to  you." 

"  I  cannot — I  cannot,"  she  rejoined. 
"  I  will  never  marry." 

"You  hear  what  she  says,"  remarked 
Chetham.  "  Do  not  urge  the  matter 
further." 

"  I  admire  maiden  delicacy  and  reserve," 
replied  Fawkes;  "but  when  a  man  lias 
acted  as  you  have  done,  he  deserves  to  be 
treated  with  frankness.  I  am  sure  Vivi- 
ana loves  you.     Let  her  tell  you  so." 

"You  are  mistaken,"  replied  Chetham; 
"and  it  is  time  you  should  be  undeceived. 
She  loves  another." 

"  Is  this  sol"  cried  Fawkes  in  astonish- 
ment. 

She  made  no  answer. 

"  Whom  do  you  love]"  he  asked. 

Still,  no  answer. 

"  I  will  tell  you  whom  she  loves — and 
let  her  contradict  me  if  I  am  wrong,"  said 
Chetham. 

"  Oh,  no! — no! — in  pity  spare  me!" 
cried  Viviana. 

"  Speak!"  thundered  Fawkes.  "  Who 
is  it]" 

"  Yourself,"  replied  Chetham. 

"What!"  exclaimed  Fawkes,  recoiling 
— "lovernf/  I  will  not  believe  it.  She 
loves  me  as  a  father — but  nothing  more — 
nothing  more.  But  you  were  right.  Let 
us  change  the  subject.  A  more  fitting 
season  may  arrive  for  its  discussion." 

After  some  further  conversation,  it  was 
agreed  that  Viviana  should  be  taken  to 
VVhite  Webbs;  and  leaving  her  in  charge 
of    Humphrey   Chetham,    Guy    Fawkes 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


129 


went  in  search  of  a  conveyance  to  En- 
field. 

Traversing  the  Strand — every  hostel  in 
whicli  was  closed — lie  turned  up  Wycli 
Street,  immediately  on  the  right  of  •which 
there  was  a  large  inn  (still  in  existence), 
and  entering  the  yard,  discovered  a  knot 
of  carriers  moving  ahout  with  lanterns  in 
their  hands.  To  his  inquiries  respecting 
a  conveyance  to  Enfield,  one  of  them  an- 
swered, that  he  was  about  to  return  thither 
with  his  waggon  at  four  o'clock — it  was 
then  two — and  should  be  glad  to  take  him 
and  his  friends.  Overjoyed  at  the  intelli- 
gence, and  at  once  agreeing  to  the  man's 
terms,  Guy  P^awkes  hurried  back  to  his 
companions,  and,  with  the  assistance  of 
Humphrey  Chetham,  contrived  to  carry 
Viviana  (for  she  was  utterly  unable  to 
support  herself)  to  the  inn-yard,  where 
she  was  immediately  placed  in  the  wag- 
gon, on  a  iieap  of  fresh  straw. 

About  an  hour  after  this,  but  long  before 
daybreak,  the  carrier  attached  his  horses 
to  the  waggon,  and  set  out.  Guy  Fawkes 
and  Humphrey  Chetham  were  sealed  near 
Viviana,  but  little  was  said  during  the 
journey,  which  occupied  about  three  hours. 
By  this  time,  it  was  broad  daylight;  and 
as  the  carrier  stopped  at  the  door  of  a 
small  inn,  Guy  Fawkes  alighted,  and  in- 
quired the  distanco  to  While  Webbs] 

"  It  is  about  a  mile  and  a  half  off,"  re- 
plied the  man.  "If  you  pursue  that  lane, 
it  will  bring  you  to  a  small  village  about 
half  a  mile  from  tliis,  where  you  are  sure 
to  find  some  one  who  will  gladly  guide 
you  to  the  house,  which  is  a  little  out  of 
the  road,  on  the  borders  of  the  forest." 

He  then  assisted  Viviana  to  alight,  and 
Humphrey  Chetham  descending  at  the 
same  time,  the  party  took  the  road  indi- 
cated— a  winding  country  lane  with  higfi 
hedges,  broken  by  beautiful  timber — and 
proceeding  at  a  slow  pace,  they  arrived  in 
about  half  an  hour  at  a  little  cluster  of 
cottages,  which  Guy  Fawkes  guessed  to 
be  the  village  alluded  to  by  the  carrier. 
As  they  approached  it,  a  rustic  leaped  a 
hedge,  and  was  about  to  cross  to  another 
field,  when  Guy  Fawkes,  calling  to  him, 
inquired  the  way  to  White  Webbs. 

"I  am  going  in  that  direction,"  replied 
the  man.'  "If  you  desire  it,  I  will  show 
you  the  road." 

"1  shall  feel  much  indebted  to  you, 
friend,"  returned  Fawkes,  "  and  will  re- 
ward you  for  your  trouble." 

"I  want  no  reward,"  returned  the  coun- 
tryhian,  trudging  forward. 

Following  their  guide,  after  a  few 
minutes'  brisk  walking,  they  reached  the 
borders  of  the  forest,  and  took  their  way 
along  a  patch  of  green  sward  that  skirted 
it.     In  some  places,  their  track  was  im- 

12 


peded  by  gigantic  thorns  and  brushwood, 
while  at  others  avenues  opened  upon  them, 
affording  them  peeps  into  the  heart  of  the 
wood.  It  was  a  beautiful  sylvan  scene. 
And  as  at  length  they  arrived  at  the  head 
of  a  long  glade,  at  the  farther  end  of  which 
a  herd  of  deer  were  seen,  with  their  branch- 
ing antlers  mingling  with  the  overhanging 
boughs,  Viviana  could  not  help  pausing  to 
admire  it. 

"  King  James  often  hunts  within  the 
forest,"  observed  the  countryman.  "  In- 
deed, I  heard  one  of  the  rangers  say  it  was 
not  unlikely  he  might  be  here  to-day.  He 
is  at  Theobald's  Palace  now." 

"Indeed!"  exclaimed  Fawkes.  "Let 
us  proceed.  We  lose  time.  Are  we  far 
from  the  housed" 

"  Not  above  a  quarter  of  a  mile,"  was 
the  answer.  "  You  will  see  it  at  the  next 
turn  of  the  road." 

As  the  countryman  had  intimated,  they 
speedily  perceived  the  roof  and  tall  chim- 
neys of  an  ancient  house  above  the  trees, 
and  as  it  was  now  impossible  to  mistake 
the  road,  Guy  Fawkes  thanked  their  guide 
for  his  trouble,  and  would  have  rewarded 
him,  but  he  refused  the  gratuity,  and  leap- 
ing a  hedge,  disappeared. 

Pursuing  the  road,  they  shortly  after- 
wards arrived  at  a  gale  leading  to  the 
house — a  large  building,  erected  probably 
at  the  beginning  of  Elizabeth's  reign — and 
entering  it,  they  passed  under  an  avenue 
of  trees.  On'  approaching  the  mansion, 
they  observed  that  many  of  the  windows 
were  closed,  and  the  whole  appearance  of 
the  place  was  melancholy  and  deserted. 
The  garden  was  overgrown  with  weeds,  and 
the  door  looked  as  if  it  was  rarely  opened. 

Not  discouraged  by  these  appearances, 
but  rather  satisfied  by  them  of  the  security 
of  the  asylum,  Guy  Fawkes  proceeded  to 
the  back  of  tlie  house,  and  entering  a 
court,  the  flags  and  stones  of  which  were 
covered  with  moss,  while  the  interstices 
were  filled  with  long  grass,  Guy  Fawkes 
knocked  against  a  small  door,  and,  after 
repeating  the  summons,  it  was  answered 
by  an  old  woman  servant,  who  popped  her 
head  out  of  an  up|)er  window,  and  de- 
manded his  business. 

Guy  Fawkes  was  about  to  inquire  for 
Mrs.  Hrooksby,  when  another  head,  which 
proved  to  be  that  of  Catesby,  appeared  at 
the  window.  On  seeing  Fawkes  and  his 
companions,  Catesby  instantly  descended, 
and  unfastened  the  door.  The  heuse 
proved  far  more  comfortable  within  than 
its  exterior  jiromised;  and  the  old  female 
domestic  having  taken  word  to  Anne  Vaux 
that  Viviana  was  below,  the  former  lady, 
who  had  not  yet  risen,  sent  for  her  to  her 
chamber,  and  provided  everything  for  her 
comfort. 


130 


GUY    FAWKES. 


Guy  Fawkes  and  Hnniphrey  Chetliam, 
neither  of  whom  had  rested  during-  the 
night,  were  flad  to  obtain  a  few  hours'  re- 
pose on  the  floor  of  the  first  room  into  which 
they  were  shown,  and  they  were  not  dis- 
turbed until  the  day  had  consideral)ly  ad- 
vanced, when  Catesby  thought  fit  to  rouse 
them  from  their  slumbers. 

Explanations  were  then  given  on  hoth 
sides.  Chetham  detailed  the  manner  of 
Viviana's  escape  from  the  Tower,  and 
Catesby  in  his  turn  acquainted  them  that 
Father  Oldcorne  was  in  the  house,  having 
found  his  way  thither  after  his  escape  from 
the  dwelling  at  Lambeth.  Guy  Fawkes 
was  greatly  rejoiced  at  the  intelligence, 
and  shortly  afterwards  had  the  satisfaction 
of  meeting  with  the  priest.  At  noon,  the 
whole  party  assembled,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Viviana,  who  by  the  advice  of 
Anne  Vaux  kept  her  chamber,  to  recruit 
herself  after  the  sufferings  she  had  under- 
gone. 

Humphrey  Chetham,  of  whom  no  sus- 
picions were  now  entertained,  and  of  whom 
Catesby  no  longer  felt  any  jealousy,  was 
invited  to  stay  in  the  house;  and  he  was 
easily  induced  to  pass  his  time  near  Vivi- 
ana, although  he  might  not  be  able  to  see 
her.  Long  and  frequent  consultations 
were  held  by  the  conspirators,  and  letters 
were  despatched  by  Catesby  to  the  elder 
Winter  at  his  seat,  Huddington  in  Wor- 
cestershire, entreating  him  to  make  every 
preparation  for  the  crisis,  as  well  as  to  Sir 
Everard  Digby,  to  desire  him  to  assemble 
as  many  friends  as  he  could  muster  against 
the  meeting  of  Parliament,  at  Dunchurch 
in  Warwickshire,  under  tlie  plea  of  a  grand 
hunting  party. 

Arrangements  were  next  made  as  to  the 
steps  to  be  taken  by  the  different  parties 
after  the  explosion.  Catesby  undertook 
■with  a  sufficient  force  to  seize  the  Princess 
Elizabeth,  the  eldest  daughter  of  James 
the  First,  who  was  then  at  the  residence 
of  the  Earl  of  Harrington,  near  Coventry, 
and  to  proclaim  her  queen,  in  case  the 
others  should  fail  in  securing  the  princes. 
It  was  supposed  that  Henry,  Prince  of 
Wales,  (who,  it  need  scarcely  be  men- 
tioned, died  in  his  youth,)  would  be  pre- 
sent with  the  king,  his  father,  in  the  Par- 
liament House,  and  would  perish  with 
him;  and  in  this  case,  as  Charles,  Duke 
of  York,  (afterwards  Charles  the  First,) 
■would  become  successor  to  the  throne,  it 
■was  resolved  that  he  should  be  seized  by 
Percy,  and  instantly  proclaimed.  Other 
TBSolutions  were  decided  upon,  and  the 
■whole  time  of  the  conspirators  was  spent 
in  maturing  their  projects. 

And  thus,  weeks  and  even  months  stole 
on.  Viviana  had  completely  regained  her 
strength,  and  passed  a  life  of  perfect  se- 


clusion; seldom,  if  ever,  mixing  with  the 
others.  She,  however,  took  a  kindly  fare- 
well of  Humphrey  Chetham  before  his  de- 
parture for  Manchester  (for  which  place  he 
set  out  about  a  fortnight  after  his  arrival 
at  VVliite  Webbs,  having  first  sought  out 
his  servant,  Martin  Heydocke;)  but,  though 
strongly  urged  by  Guy  Fawkes,  she  would 
hold  out  no  hopes  of  a  change  in  her  senti- 
ments towards  the  young  merchant.  Meet- 
ings were  occasionally  held  by  the  con- 
spirators elsewhere,  and  Catesby  and 
Fawkes  had  more  than  one  interview  with 
Tresham — but  never,  except  in  places 
where  they  were  secure  from  a  surprise. 

The  latter  end  of  September  had  now 
arrived,  and  the  meeting  of  Parliament 
was  still  fixed  for  the  third  of  October. 
On  the  last  day  of  the  month,  Guy  Fawkes 
prepared  to  start  for  town,  but  before  doing 
so,  he  desired  to  see  Viviana.  They  had 
not  met  for  some  weeks;  nor  indeed,  since 
Fawkes  had  discovered  the  secret  of  her 
heart,  (and  perhaps  of  his  own,)  had  they 
ever  met  with  the  same  freedom  as  hereto- 
fore. As  she  entered  the  room  in  which 
he  awaited  her  coming,  a  tremor  agitated 
his  frame,  but  he  had  nerved  himself  for 
the  interview,  and  speedily  subdued  the 
feeling. 

"  I  am  starting  for  London,  Viviana," 
he  said,  in  a  voice  of  forced  calmness. 
"You  may  guess  for  what  purpose.  But, 
as  I  may  never  behold  you  again,  I  would 
not  part  with  you  without  a  confession  of 
my  weakness.  I  will  not  deny  that  what 
Humphrey  Chetham  stated,  and  which 
you  have  never  contradicted — namely,  that 
you  loved  me,  for  I  must  speak  out — has 
produced  a  strong  effect  upon  me.  I  have 
endeavored  to  conquer  it,  hut  it  will  re- 
turn. Till  I  knew  you  1  never  loved, 
Viviana." 

"  Indeed!"  she  exclaimed. 

"Never,"  he  replied.  "The  fairest 
had  not  power  to  move  me.  But  I  grieve 
to  say — notwithstanding  my  struggles — 1 
do  not  continue  equally  insensible." 

"Ah!"  she  ejaculated,  becoming  as  pale 
as  death. 

"  Why  should  I  hesitate  to  declare  my 
feelings'?  Why  should  I  not  tell  you  that 
— though  blinded  to  it  so  long — I  have 
discovered  that  I  do  love  you]  Why 
siiould  I  hesitate  to  tell  you  that  1  regret 
this,  and  lament  that  we  ever  metl" 

"  What  mean  you]"  cried  Viviana,  with 
a  terrified  look. 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  replied  Fawkes. 
"  Till  I  saw  you,  my  thoughts  were  re- 
moved from  earth,  and  fixed  on  one  object. 
Till  I  saw  you,  1  asked  not  to  live,  but  to 
die  the  death  of  a  martyr." 

"  Die  so  still,"  rejoined  Viviana.  "For- 
get me — oh!  forget  me." 


GUY    FAWKES. 


131 


"  I  cannot,"  replied  Fawkes.  "  I  have 
striven  against  it.  But  your  image  is  per- 
petually before  me.  Nay,  at  this  very  mo- 
ment, when  I  am  about  to  set  out  on  the 
enterprise,  you  alone  detain  me." 

"  I  am  glad  of  it!"  exclaimed  Viviana, 
fervently.  "Oh  that  I  could  prevent  you 
— could  save  you!" 

"  Save  me!"  echoed  Fawkes,  bitterly. 
"  You  destroy  me," 

"How?"  she  asked. 

"  Because  I  am  sworn  to  this  project," 
he  rejoined;  "  and  if  I  were  turned  from  it, 
I  would  perish  by  my  own  hand." 

"  Oh!  say  not  so,"  replied  Viviana, 
"  but  listen  to  me.  Abandon  it,  and  I  will 
devote  myself  to  you." 

Guy  Fawkes  gazed  at  her  for  a  moment 
passionately,  and  then,  covering  his  face 
with  his  hands,  appeared  torn  by  conflict- 
ing emotions. 

Viviana  approached  him,  and  pressing 
his  arm,  asked  in  an  entreating  voice, 
"Are  you  still  determined  to  pursue  your 
dreadful  project]" 

"  I  am,"  replied  Fawkes,  uncovering 
his  face,  and  gazing  at  her;  "but,  if  I  re- 
main here  a  moment  longer,  I  shall  not  be 
able  to  do  so." 

"I  will  detain  you  then,"  she  rejoined, 
"  and  exercise  the  power  I  possess  over  you 
for  your  benefit." 

"  No!"  he  replied,  vehemently.  "  It 
must  not  be.     Farewell,  for  ever." 

And  breaking  from  her,  he  rushed  out 
of  the  room. 

As  he  gained  the  passage,  he  encoun- 
tered Catesby,  who  looked  abashed  at  see- 
ing him. 

"  I  have  overheard  what  has  passed," 
said  the  latter,  "  and  applaud  your  resolu- 
tion. Few  men,  similarly  circumstanced, 
would  have  acted  as  you  have  done." 

"  You  would  not,"  said  Fawkes,  coldly. 

"  Perhaps  not,"  rejoined  Catesby. 
"  But  that  does  not  lessen  my  admiration 
of  your  conduct." 

"lam  devoted  to  one  object,"  replied 
Fawkes,  "  and  nothing  shall  turn  me 
from  it." 

"  Remove  yourself  instantly  from  tempt- 
ation, then,"  replied  Catesby.  "1  will 
meet  you  at  the  cellar  beneath  the  Parlia- 
ment house  to-morrow  night." 

With  this,  he  accompanied  Guy  Fawkes 
to  the  door;  and  the  latter,  without  hazard- 
ing a  look  behind  him,  set  out  for  London, 
where  he  arrived  at  niffhtfall. 


On  the  following  night,  Fawkes  exam- 
ined the  cellar,  and  found  it  in  all  respects 
as  he  had  left  it;  and,  apprehensive  lest 
some  difficulty  might  arise,  he  resolved  to 
make  every  preparation.  ,He,  accordingly,, 
pierced  the  sides  of  several  of  the  barrels 
piled  against  the  walls  with  a  gimblet, 
and  inserted  in  the  holes  small  pieces  of 
slow-burning  match.  Not  content  with 
this,  he  staved  in  the  tops  of  the  uppermost 
tier,  and  scattered  powder  among  them  to 
secure  their  instantaneous  ignition. 

This  done,  he  took  a  powder-horn,  with 
which  he  was  provided,  and  kneeling 
down,  and  holding  his  lantern  so  as  to 
throw  a  light  upon  the  floor,  laid  a  train 
to  one  of  the  lower  barrels,  and  brought  it 
within  a  few  inches  of  the  door,  intending 
to  fire  it  from  that  point.  His  arrange- 
ments completed,  he  arose  and  muttered, 

"  A  vessel  is  provided  for  my  escape  in 
the  river,  and  my  companions  advise  me 
to  use  a  slow  match,  which  will  allow  me 
to  get  out  of  harm's  way.  But  I  will  see 
the  deed  done,  and  if  the  train  fails,  will 
hold  a  torch  to  the  barrels  myself." 

At  this  juncture,  a  slight  tap  was  heard 
without. 

Guy  Fawkes  instantly  masked  his  lan- 
tern, and,  cautiously  opening  the  door,  be- 
held Catesby. 

"  I  am  come  to  tell  you  that  Parliament 
is  prorogued,"  said  the  latter.  "The 
house  does  not  meet  till  the  fifth  of  No- 
vember. We  have  another  month  to  wait." 
"  I  am  sorrj''  for  it,"  rejoined  Fawkes. 
"  I  have  just  laid  the  train.  The  lucky 
moment  will  pass." 

And,  locking  the  door,  he  proceeded 
with  Catesby  to  the  adjoining  house. 

They  had  scarcely  been  gone  more  than 
a  second,  when'  two  figures  muffled  in 
cloaks  emerged  from  behind  a  wall. 

"The  train  Is  laid,"  observed  the  fore- 
most," and  they  are  gone  to  the  house. 
You  might  seize  them  now  without  dan- 
ger." 

"  That  will  not  answer  my  purpose," 
replied  the  other.  "I  will  give  them 
another  month." 

"Another  month!"  replied  the  first 
speaker.  "  Who  knows  what  may  hap- 
pen in  that  time?  They  may  abandon 
their  project." 

"  There  is  no  fear  of  that,"  replied  the 
other.  "  But  you  had  better  go  and  join 
them." 


132 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


CHAPTER   XI. 


THE  MARRIAGE  IN  THE  FOREST. 


Tresham,  for  it  will  have  been  conjec- 
tured that  he  was  one  of  the  speakers 
mentioned  in  the  precedinjr  chapter,  on 
separating  from  Lord  Mounteagfle,  took 
the  same  direction  as  tlie  conspirators. — 
He  hesitated  for  some  time  before  ventu- 
rinjf  to  knock  at  the  g'arden  gate;  and 
when  he  had  done  so,  felt  half-disposed  to 
take  to  his  heels.  But  shame  restrained 
him;  and  hearing  footsteps  approach,  he 
gave  the  customary  signal,  and  was  in- 
stantly admitted  by  Guy  Fawkes. 

"  Wiiat  brings  you  here?"  demanded 
the  latter,  as  they  entered  the  house  and 
made  fast  the  door  behind  them. 

"I  have  just  heard  that  Parliament  is 
prorogued  to  the  fifth  of  November,"  re- 
plied Tresham,  "and  came  to  tell  you  so." 

"I  already  know  it,"  returned  Fawkes, 
gloomily;  "  and  for  the  first  time  feel 
some  misgiving  as  to  the  issue  of  our  enter- 
prise. 

"Why  so?"  inquired  Tresham. 

"November  is  unlucky  to  me,"  rejoined 
Fawkes,  "  and  I  cannot  recollect  a  year 
in  my  life  in  which  some  ill  has  not  befal- 
len me  during  that  month,  especially  on 
the  fifth  day.  On  the  last  fifth  of  Novem- 
ber, I  nearly  died  of  a  fever  at  Madrid.  It 
is  a  strange  and  unfortunate  coincidence 
that  the  meeting  of  the  Parliament  should 
be  appointed  for  that  particular  day." 

"  Shall  I  tell  you  what  I  think  it  por- 
tends?" hesitated  Tresham. 

"  Do  so,"  replied  Fawkes,  "  and  speak 
boldly.  I  am  no  child  to  be  frightened  at 
shadows." 

"  You  have  more  than  once  declared 
your  intention  of  perishing  with  our  foes," 
rejoined  Tresham.  "The  design,  though 
prosperous  in  itself,  may  be  fatal  to  you." 

"You  are  right,"  replied  Fawkes.  "I 
have  little  doubt  I  shall  perish  on  that 
day.  You  are  both  aware  of  my  supersti- 
tious nature,  and  are  not  ignorant  that 
many  mysterious  occurrences  have  com- 
bined to  strengthen  the  feeling — such  as 
the  dying  words  of  the  prophetess,  Eliza- 
beth Orton — her  warning  speech  when  she 
was  raised  from  the  dead  by  Doctor  Dec — 
and  lastly,  the  vision  at  Saint  Winifred's 
Well.  What  if  I  tell  you  the  saint  has 
again  appeared  to  me?" 

"  In  a  dream?"  inquired  Catesby,  in  a 
slightly  sceptical  tone. 

"  Ay,  in  a  dream,"  returned  Fawkes. 
"  But  I  saw  her  as  plainly  as  if  I  had  been 
awake.  It  was  the  same  vapory  figure — 
the  same  transparent  robes,  the  same  be- 


nign countenance,  only  far  more  pitying 
than  before — that  I  beheld  at  Holywell. — 
I  heard  no  sound  issue  from  her  lips,  but 
I  felt  that  she  warned  me  to  desist." 

"  Do  yon  accept  the  warning?"  asked 
Tresham,  eagerly. 

"  It  is  needless  to  answer,"  replied 
Fawkes.     "  I  have  laid  the  train  to-night." 

"  You  have  infected  me  with  your  mis- 
givings," observed  Tresham.  "  Would 
the  enterprise  had  never  been  undertaken!" 

"  But  being  undertaken,  it  must  be  gone 
through  with,"  rejoined  Catesby,  sternly. 
"  Harkee,  Tresham.  You  promised  us 
two  thousand  pounds  in  aid  of  the  project, 
but  have  constantly  deferred  payment  of 
the  sum  on  some  plea  or  other." 

"  Because  I  have  not  been  able  to  raise 
it,"  replied  Tresham,  sullenly.  "  I  have 
tried  in  vain  to  sell  part  of  my  estates  at 
Rushton,  in  Northamptonshire.  I  cannot 
effect  impossibilities." 

"Tush!"  cried  Catesby,  fiercely. — 
"  You  well  know  I  ask  no  impossibility. 
I  will  no  longer  be  trifled  with.  The 
money  must  be  forthcoming  by  the  tenth 
of  October,  or  you  shall  pay  the  penalty 
with  your  life." 

"  This  is  the  language  of  a  cut-throat, 
INIr.  Catesby,"  replied  Tresham. 

"It  is  the  only  language  I  will  hold  to- 
wards you,"  rejoined  Catesby,  contempt- 
uously. "  Look  you  disappoint  me  not, 
or  take  the  consequences." 

"I  must  leave  for  Northamptonshire  at 
once,  then,"  said  Tresham. 

"  Do  as  you  please,"  returned  Catesby. 
"  Play  the  cut-throat  yourself,  and  ease 
some  rich  miser  of  his  store,  if  you  think 
fit.  Bring  us  the  money,  and  we  will  not 
ask  how  you  came  by  it." 

"  Before  we  separate,"  said  Tresham, 
disregarding  these  sneers,  "I  wish  to  be 
resolved  on  one  point.  Who  are  to  be 
saved  from  destruction?" 

"  Why  do  you  ask?"  inquired  Fawkes. 

"  Because  I  must  stipulate  for  the  lives 
of  my  brothers-in-law,  the  Lords  Mount- 
eagle  and  Stourton." 

"If  anything  detains  them  from  the 
meeting,  well  and  good,"  replied  Catesby. 
"  But  no  warning  must  be  given  them. — 
That  would  infallibly  lead  to  a  discovery 
of  the  plot." 

"  Some  means  might  surely  be  adopted 
to  put  them  on  their  guard  without  danger 
to  ourselves?"  urged  Tresham. 

"I  know  of  none,"  replied  Catesby. 

"  Nor  I,"  added  Fawkes.     "  If  I  did,  I 


GUY    FAWKES. 


133 


would  warn  Lord  Montague,  and  some 
others  whom  I  shall  grieve  to  destroy." 

"  We  are  all  similarly  circumstanced," 
replied  Catesby.  "  Keyes  is  anxious  for 
the  preservation  of  his  patron  and  friend, 
Lord  Mordaunt — Percy,  for  the  Earl  of 
Northumberland.  I,  myself,  would  gladly 
save  the  young  earl  of  Arundel.  But  we 
must  sacrifice  our  private  feeling  for  the 
general  good." 

"  We  must,"  acquiesced  Fawkes. 

"  We  shall  not  meet  again  till  the  night 
of  the  tenth  of  October,"  said  Catesby, 
"  when  take  care  you  are  in  readiness  with 
the  money." 

Upon  this,  the  conversation  dropped, 
and  soon  afterwards  Tresham  departed. 

When  he  found  himself  alone,  he  suffer- 
ed his  rage  to  find  vent  in  words.  "  Per- 
dition seize  them!"  he  cried,  "  I  shall  now 
lose  two  thousand  pounds,  in  addition  to 
what  I  have  already  advanced;  and,  as 
Mounteagle  will  not  have  the  disclosure 
made  till  the  beginning  of  November,  there 
is  no  way  of  avoiding  payment.  They 
would  not  fall  into  the  snare  I  laid  to  throw 
the  blame  of  the  discovery,  when  it  takes 
place,  upon  their  own  indiscretion.  But  1 
must  devise  some  other  plan.  The  warn- 
ing shall  proceed  from  an  unknown  quar- 
ter. A  letter,  written  in  a  feigned  hand, 
and  giving  some  obscure  intimation  of 
danger,  shall  be  delivered  with  an  air  of 
mystery  to  Mounteagle.  This  will  serve 
as  a  plea  for  its  divulgement  to  the  Earl 
of  Salisbury.  Well,  well,  they  shall  have 
the  money;  but  they  shall  pay  me  back  in 
other  coin." 

Early  on  the  following  day,  Catesby 
and  Fawkes  proceeded  to  White  W^ebbs. 
Garnet  was  greatly  surprised  to  see  them, 
and  could  not  conceal  his  disappointment 
at  the  cause  of  their  return. 

"This  delay  bodes  no  good,"  he  ob- 
served. "  Parliament  has  been  so  often 
prorogued,  that  I  begin  to  think  some 
suspicion  is  entertained  of  our  design." 

"  Make  your  mind  easy,  then,"  replied 
Catesby.  "  I  have  made  due  inquiries, 
and  find  the  meeting  is  postponed  to  suit 
the  King's  convenience,  who  wishes  to 
prolong  his  stay  at  Royston.  He  may 
probably  have  some  secret  motive  for  the 
delay,  but  1  am  sure  it  in  no  way  concerns 
us." 

Everything  being  now  fully  arranged, 
the  conspirators  had  only  to  wait  patiently 
for  the  arrival  of  the  expected  fifth  of  No- 
vember. Most  of  them  decided  upon  pass- 
ing the  interval  in  the  country.  Ambrose 
Rookwood  departed  for  Clopton,  near 
Stratford-upon-Avon — a  seat  belonging  to 
Lord  Carew,  where  his  family  were  stay- 
ing. Keyes  went  to  visit  Lord  Mordaunt 
at  Turvey,  ia  Bedfordshire;  and  Percy  and 


the  two  Wrights  set  out  for  Gothurst,  in 
Buckinghamshire,  to  desire  Sir  Everard 
Digby  to  postpone  the  grand  hunting  party 
which  he  was  to  hold  at  Dunsmore  Heath, 
as  an  excuse  for  mustering  a  strong  party 
of  Catholics,  in  the  beginning  of  Novem- 
ber. The  two  Winters  repaired  to  their 
family  mansion,  Huddington,  in  Worces- 
tershire; while  Fawkes  and  Catesby,  to- 
gether with  the  two  priests,  remained  at 
White  Webbs.  The  three  latter  held  daily 
conferences  together,  but  were  seldom  join- 
ed by  Fawkes,  who  passed  his  time  in  the 
adjoining  forest,  selecting  its  densest  and 
most  intricate  parts  for  his  rambles. 

It  was  now  the  beginning  of  October, 
and,  as  is  generally  the  case  in  the  early 
part  of  this  month,  the  weather  was  fine, 
and  the  air  pure  and  bracing.  The  forest 
could  scarcely  have  been  seen  to  greater 
advantage.  The  leaves  had  assumed  their 
gorgeous  autumnal  tints,  and  the  masses 
of  timber,  variegated  in  color,  presented  an 
inexpressibly  beautiful  appearance.  Guy 
Fawkes  spent  hours  in  the  depths  of  the 
wood.  His  sole  companions  were  the 
lordly  stag  and  the  timid  hare,  that  occa- 
sionally started  across  his  path.  Since 
his  return,  he  had  sedulously  avoided  Vi- 
viana,  and  they  had  met  only  twice,  and 
then  no  speech  had  passed  between  them. 
One  day,  when  he  had  plunged  even  deeper 
than  usual  into  the  forest,  and  had  seated 
himself  on  the  stump  of  a  decayed  tree, 
with  his  eyes  fixed  on  a  small  clear  rivulet 
welling  at  his  feet,  he  saw  the  reflection 
of  a  female  figure  in  the  water;  and,  filled 
with  the  idea  of  the  vision  of  Saint  Wini- 
fred, at  first  imagined  he  was  about  to 
receive  another  warning.  But  a  voice 
that  thrilled  to  his  heart's  core,  soon  un- 
deceived him,  and,  turning  he  beheld  Vi- 
viana.  She  was  habited  in  a  riding-dress, 
and  appeared  prepared  to  set  out  upon  a 
journey. 

"  So  you  have  tracked  me  to  my  soli- 
tude," he  observed,  iu  a  tone  of  forced 
coldness.  "  I  thought  I  was  secure  from 
interruption  here." 

"  You  will  forgive  me,  I  am  sure,  when 
you  know  my  errand,"  she  replied.  ''It 
is  to  take  an  eternal  farewell  of  you." 

"Indeed!"  he  exclaimed.  "Are  you 
about  to  quit  White  Webbs]" 

"  I  am,"  she  mournfully  rejoined.  "  I 
am  about  to  set  out  with  Father  Oldcnrne 
for  Gothurst,  where  I  shall  remain  till  all 
is  over." 

"I  entirely  approve  your  determination," 
returned  Fawkes,  after  a  short  pause. 

"  I  knew  you  would  do  so,  or  I  would 
have  consulted  you  upon  it,"  she  re- 
joined. 

"  And  as  you  appear  to  avoid  me,  I 
would  fain  have  departed  without  taking 

12* 


134 


GUY    FAWKES. 


leave  of  you,  but  found  it  impossible  to 
do  so." 

"  You  well  know  my  motive  for  avoid- 
ing you,  Viviana,"  rejoined  Fawkes.  "We 
are  no  longer  what  we  were  to  each  other. 
A  fearful  struggle  has  taken  place  within 
me,  though  I  have  preserved  an  unmoved 
exterior,  between  passion  and  the  sense  of 
my  high  calling.  I  have  told  you  I  never 
loved  before,  and  fancied  my  heart  im- 
movable as  adamant.  But  I  now  find  out 
my  error.  It  is  a  prey  to  a  raging  and 
constant  flame.  I  have  shunned  you," 
he  continued,  with  increased  excitement, 
"  because  the  sight  of  you  shakes  my  firm- 
ness— because  I  feel  it  sinful  to  think  of 
you  in  preference  to  holier  objects — and 
because,  after  I  have  quitted  you  your 
image  alone  engrosses  my  thoughts.  Here, 
in  the  depth  of  this  wood,  by  the  side  of 
this  brook,  I  can  commune  with  my  soul — 
can  abstract  myself  from  the  world  and  the 
thoughts  of  the  world — from  you — yes  you, 
who  are  all  the  world  tome  now — and  pre- 
pare to  meet  my  end." 

"Then  you  are  resolved  to  diel"  she 
cried. 

"I  shall  abide  the  explosion,  and  no- 
thing but  a  miracle  can  save  me,"  returned 
Fawkes. 

"And  think  not  it  will  be  exerted  in 
your  behalf,"  she  replied.  "  Heaven  does 
not  approve  your  design,  and  you  will  as- 
suredly incur  its  vengeance  by  your  cri- 
minal conduct." 

"  Viviana,"  replied  Guy  Fawkes,  ris- 
ing, "  man  cannot  read  my  heart,  but 
Heaven  can;  and  the  sincerity  of  my  pur- 
pose will  be  recognised  above.  What  I 
am  about  to  do  is  for  the  regeneration  of 
our  holy  religion;  and  if  the  welfare  of 
that  religion  is  dear  to  the  Supreme  Being, 
our  cause  must  prosper.  If  the  contrary, 
it  deserves  to  fail,  and  will  fail.  I  have 
ever  told  you  that  I  care  not  what  becomes 
of  myself.  I  am  now  more  than  ever  in- 
difl'erent  to  life — or  rather,"  he  added,  in  a 
sombre  tone,  "I  am  anxious  to  die." 

"  Your  dreadful  wish,  I  fear,  will  be 
accomplished,"  replied  Viviana,  sadly. — 
"  I  have  been  constantly  haunted  by  fright- 
ful apprehensions  respecting  you,  and  my 
dead  father  has  appeared  to  me  in  my 
dreams.  His  spirit,  if  such  it  were,  seemed 
to  gaze  upon  me  with  a  mournful  look,  and, 
as  I  thought,  pronounced  your  name  in 
piteous  accents." 

"These  forebodings  chime  with  my 
own,"  muttered  Fawkes,  repressing  a 
shudder;  "but  nothing  shall  shake  me. — 
It  will  inflict  a  bitter  pang  upon  me  to  part 
with  you,  Viviana— the  bitterest  I  can 
ever  feel — and  I  shall  be  glad  when  it  is 
over." 

"I  echo  your  own  wish,"  she  returned, 


"  and  deeply  lament  that  we  ever  met. — 
But  the  fate  that  brought  us  together  must 
for  ever  unite  us." 

"  What  mean  youl"  he  inquired,  gazing 
fixedly  at  her. 

"  There  is  one  sad  consolation  which 
you  can  afford  me,  and  which  you  owe  me 
for  the  deep  and  lasting  misery  I  shall  en- 
dure on  your  account,"  replied  Viviana; 
"a  consolation  that  will  enable  me  to  bear 
your  loss  with  fortitude,  and  to  devote  my- 
self wholly  to  heaven." 

"  Whatever  I  can  do  that  will  not  inter- 
fere with  my  purpose,  you  may  command," 
he  rejoined. 

"  What  I  have  to  propose  will  not  inter- 
fere with  it,"  she  answered.  "  Now,  hear 
me,  and  put  the  sole  construction  I  deserve 
on  my  conduct.  Father  Garnet  is  at  a 
short  distance  from  us,  behind  those  trees, 
waiting  my  summons.  I  have  informed 
him  of  my  design,  and  he  approves  of  it. 
It  is  to  unite  us  in  marriage — solemnly 
unite  us — that  though  I  may  never  live 
with  you  as  a  wife,  1  may  mourn  you  as  a 
widow.     Do  you  consent?" 

Guy  Fawkes  returned  an  affirmative,  in 
a  voice  broken  by  emotion. 

"  The  moment  the  ceremony  is  over," 
pursued  Viviana,  "I  shall  start  with  Fa- 
ther Oldcorne  for  Gothurst.  We  shall 
never  meet  again  in  this  world." 

"  Unless  I  succeed]"  said  Fawkes. 

"You  will  not  succeed,"  replied  Vivi- 
ana. "  If  I  thought  so, I  should  not  take 
this  step.  I  look  upon  it  as  an  espousal, 
with  the  dead." 

So  saying,  she  hurried  away,  and  dis- 
appearing beneath  the  covert,  returned  in  a 
few  seconds  with  Garnet. 

"  I  have  a  strange  duty  to  perform  for 
you,  my  son,"  said  Garnet  to  Fawkes, 
who  remained  motionless  and  stupefied; 
"but  I  am  right  willing  to  perform  it,  be- 
cause I  think  it  will  lead  to  your  future 
happiness  with  the  fair  creature  who  has 
bestowed  her  affections  on  you." 

"  Do  not  speculate  on  the  future,  father," 
cried  Viviana.  "  You  know  irhy  I  asked 
you  to  perform  the  ceremony.  You  know, 
also,  that  I  have  made  preparations  for  in- 
stant departure;  and  that  I  indulge nohope 
of  seeing  Guy  Fawkes  again." 

"All  this  I  know,  dear  daughter,"  re- 
turned Garnet;  "  but,  in  spite  of  your  an- 
ticipations of  ill,  I  still  hope  that  your 
union  may  prove  auspicious." 

"  I  take  you  to  witness,  father,"  said 
Viviana,  "  that  in  bestowing  my  hand 
upon  Guy  Fawkes,  I  bestow  at  the  same 
time  all  my  possessions  upon  him.  He  is 
free  to  use  them  as  he  thinks  proper — even 
in  the  furtherance  of  his  design  against  the 
state,  which,  though  I  cannot  approve  it, 
seems  good  to  him." 


GUY    FAWKES. 


135 


"  This  must  not  be,"  cried  Fawkes. 

'■'■  It  shall  be,''^  rejoined  Viviana.  "Pro- 
ceed with  the  ceremony,  father." 

"Let  her  have  her  own  way,  my  son," 
observed  Garnet,  in  a  low  tone.  "  Under 
any  circumstances,  her  estates  must  now 
be  necessarily  yours." 

He  then  took  a  breviary  from  his  vest, 
and  placing  them  near  each  other,  began 
to  read  aloud  the  marriage  service  appoint- 
ed by  the  Romish  Church.  And  there,  in 
that  secluded  spot,  and  under  such  extra- 
ordinary circumstances,  with  no  other  wit- 
nesses than  the  ancient  trees  around  them, 
and  the  brook  rippling-  at  their  feet,  were 
Guy  Fawkes  and  Viviana  united.  The 
ceremony  over,  Guy  Fawkes  pressed  his 
bride  to  his  breast,  and  imprinted  a  kiss 
upon  her  lips. 

"  I  have  broken  my  faith  to  heaven,  to 
which  I  was  first  espoused,"  he  cried. 

"No,"  she  returned;  "you  will  now 
return  to  your  first  and  holiest  choice. — 
Think  of  me  only  as  I  shall  think  of  you, 
as  of  the  dead." 

With  this,  the  party  slowly  and  silently 
returned  to  the  house,  where  they  found  a 
couple  of  steeds,  with  luggage  strapped  to 
the  saddles,  at  the  door. 

Father  Oldcorne  was  already  mounted, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  Viviana  was  by  his 
side.  Before  her  departure,  she  bade  Guy 
Fawkes  a  tender  farewell,  and  at  this  try- 
ing juncture  her  firmness  nearly  deserted 
her.  But  rousing  herself,  she  sprang  upon 
her  horse,  and  urging  the  animal  into  a 
quick  pace,  and  followed  by  Oldcorne,  she 
speedily  disappeared  from  view.  Guy 
Fawkes  v/atched  her  out  of  sight,  and 
shunning  the  regards  of  Cateslay,  who 
formed  one  of  the  group,  struck  into  the 
forest,  and  was  not  seen  again  till  the  fol- 
lowing day. 

The  tenth  of  October  having  arrived, 
Guy  Fawkes  and  Catesby  repaired  to  the 
place  of  rendezvous.  But  the  night  passed, 
and  Tresham  did  not  appear.  Catesby 
was  angry  and  disappointed,  and  could 
not  conceal  his  apprehensions  of  treachery. 
Fawkes  took  a  dilTerent  view  of  the  mat- 
ter, and  thought  it  not  improbable  that 
their  confederate's  absence  might  be  oc- 
casioned by  the  diificulty  he  found  in 
complying  with  their  demands;  and  this 
opinion  was  confirmed  the  next  morning 
by  the  arrival  of  a  letter  from  Tresham, 
stating  that  he  had  been  utterly  unable  to 
effect  the  sales  he  contemplated,  and  could 
not,  therefore,  procure  the  money  till  the 
end  of  the  month. 

"  I  will  immediately  go  down  to  Rush- 
ton,"  said  Catesby,  "and  if  I  find  him 
disposed  to  palter  with  us,  I  will  call  him 
to  instant  account.  But  Garnet  informs 
me   that  Viviana  has   bestowed   all   her 


wealth   upon  you.     Are   you   willing  to 
devote  it  to  the  good  cause!" 

"No!"  replied  Fawkes,  in  a  tone  so 
decisive  that  his  companion  felt  it  would 
be  useless  to  urge  the  matter  further.  "  I 
give  my  life  to  the  cause — that  must 
suffice." 

The  subject  was  never  renewed.  At 
night,  Catesby,  having  procured  a  power- 
ful steed,  set  out  upon  his  journey  to 
Northamptonshire,  while  Fawkes  returned 
to  White  Webbs. 

About  a  fortnight  passed  unmarked  by 
any  event  of  importance.  Despatches 
were  received  from  Catesby,  stating  that 
he  had  received  the  money  from  Tresham, 
and  had  expended  it  in  procuring  horses 
and  arms.  He  also  added  that  he  had 
raised  numerous  recruits  on  various  pre- 
tences. This  letter  was  dated  from  Ashby 
Saint  Leger's,  the  seat  of  his  mother, 
Lady  Catesby,  but  he  expressed  his  in 
tention  of  proceeding  to  Coughton  Hall, 
near  Alcester,  in  Warwickshire,  the  resi- 
dence of  Mr.  Thomas  Throckmorton  (a 
wealthy  Catholic  gentleman,)  whither  Sir 
Everard  Digby  had  removed  with  his 
family,  to  be  in  readiness  for  the  grand 
hunting-party  to  be  held  on  the  fifth  of 
November  on  Dunsmore  Heath.  Here  he 
expected  to  be  joined  by  the  two  Wrights, 
the  Winters,  Rookwood,  Keyes,  and  the 
rest  of  the  conspirators,  and  undertook  to 
bring  them  all  up  to  White  Webbs  on 
Saturday  the  twenty-sixth  of  October. 

By  this  time,  Guy  Fawkes  had  in  a 
great  degree  recovered  his  equanimity, 
and,  left  alone  with  Garnet,  held  long  and 
frequent  religious  conferences  with  him; 
it  being  evidently  his  desire  to  prepare 
himself  for  his  expected  fate.  He  spent 
the  greater  part  of  the  nights  in  solitary 
vigils — fasted  even  more  rigorously  than 
he  was  enjoined  to  do — and  prayed  with 
such  fervor  and  frequency,  tliat,  fearing 
an  ill  effect  upon  his  health,  and  almost 
upon  his  mind,  which  had  become  exalted 
to  the  highest  pitch  of  enthusiasm,  Garnet 
thought  it  necessary  to  check  him.  The 
priest  did  not  fail  to  note  that  Viviana's 
name  never  passed  his  lips,  and  that  in 
all  their  walks  in  the  forest  he  carefully 
shunned  the  scene  of  his  espousals. 

And  thus  time  flew  by.  On  the  evening 
of  the  twenty-sixth  of  October,  in  accord- 
ance with  Catesby's  intimation,  the  con- 
spirators arrived.  They  were  all  assem- 
bled at  supper,  and  were  relating  the 
different  arrangements  which  had  been 
made  in  anticipation  of  the  important 
event,  when  Garnet  observed  with  a  look 
of  sudden  uneasiness  to  Catesby,  "You 
said  in  one  of  your  letters  that  you  would 
bring  'J'resham  with  you,  my  son.  Why 
do  1  not  see  himl" 


136 


GUY    FAWKES. 


"  He  sent  a  message  to  Coughton  to 
state,  that  having  been  attacked  by  a  sud- 
den illness,  he  was  unable  to  join  us," 
replied  Catesby,  "  but  as  soon  as  he  could 
leave  his  bed,  he  would  hasten  to  London. 
This  may  be  a  subterfuge,  but  I  shall 
speedily  ascertain  the  truth,  for  I  have 
sent  my  servant  Bates  to  Rushton,  to  in- 
vestigate the  matter.  I  ought  to  tell  you," 
he  added,  "  that  he  has  given  substantial 
proof  of  his  devotion  to  the  cause  by  send- 
incr  another  thousand  pounds,  to  be  ex- 
pe'nded  in  the  purchase  of  arms  and 
horses." 

"I  hope  it  is  not  dust  thrown  into  our 
eyes,"  relumed  Garnet.  "  I  have  always 
feared  Tresham  would  deceive  us  at  the 
last." 

"This  sudden  illness  looks  suspicious, 
I  must  own,"  said  Catesby.  "  Has  aught 
been  heard  of  Lord  Mounteagle]" 

"Guy  Fawkes  heard  that  he  was  at  his 
residence  at  Southwark  yesterday,"  re- 
turned Garnet. 

"  So  far,  good,"  replied  Catesby.  "  Did 
you  visit  the  cellar  where  the  powder  is 
deposited]"  he  added,  turning  to  Fawkes. 

"I  did,"  replied  the  other,  "and  found 
all  secure.  The  powder  is  in  excellent 
preservation.  Before  quitting  the  spot,  I 
placed  certain  private  marks  against  the 
door,  by  which  I  can  tell  whether  it  is 
opened  during  our  absence." 

"  A  wise  precaution,"  returned  Catesby. 
"  And  now,  gentlemen,"  he  added,  filling 
a  goblet  with  wine,  "  success  to  our  enter- 
prise! Everything  is  prepared,"  he  con- 
tinued, as  the  pledge  was  enthusiastically 
drunk,  "  I  have  got  together  a  company  of 
above  two  hundred  men,  all  well  armed 
and  appointed,  who  will  follow  me  wher- 
ever 1  choose  to  lead  them.  They  will  be 
stationed  near  Dunsmore  Heath  on  the 
fifth  of  next  month,  and  as  soon  as  the 
event  of  the  explosion  is  known,  I  shall 
ride  thither  as  fast  as  I  can,  and,  hurrying 
with  my  troops  to  Coventry,  seize  the 
Princess  Elizabeth.  Percy  and  Keyes 
will  secure  the  person  of  the  Duke  of 
York,  and  proclaim  him  King;  while  upon 
the  rest  will  devolve  the  arduous  duty  of 
rousing  our  Catholic  brethren  in  London 
to  rise  to  arms." 

"  Trust  to  us  to  rouse  them,"  shouted 
several  voices. 

"  Let  each  man  swear  not  to  swerve  from 
the  fulfilment  of  his  task,"  cried  Catesby; 


"  swear  it  upon  this  cup  of  wine,  in  which 
we  will  all  mix  our  blood." 

And  as  he  spoke,  he  pricked  his  arm 
with  .the  point  of  his  sword,  and  suffered  a 
few  drops  of  blood  to  fall  into  the  goblet, 
while  the  others,  roused  to  a  state  of  fren- 
zied enthusiasm,  imitated  his  example,  and 
afterwards  raised  the  horrible  mixture  to 
their  lips,  pronouncing  at  the  same  time 
the  oath. 

Guy  Fawkes  was  the  last  to  take  the 
pledge,  and  crying  in  a  loud  voice,  "  I 
swear  not  to  quit  my  post  till  the  explo- 
sion is  over,"  he  drained  the  cup. 

After  this,  they  adjourned  to  a  room  in 
another  wing  of  the  house,  fitted  up  as  a 
chapel,  where  mass  was  performed  by 
Garnet,  and  the  sacrament  administered  to 
the  whole  assemblage.  They  were  about 
to  retire  for  the  night,  wiien  a  sudden 
knocking  was  heard  at  the  door.  Recon- 
noitering  the  intruder  through  an  upper 
window,  overlooking  the  court,  Catesby 
perceived  it  was  Bales,  who  was  holding 
a  smoking  and  mud-bespattered  steed  by 
the  bridle. 

"  Well,  what  news  do  you  bring?"  cried 
Catesby,  as  he  admitted  him.  "  Have  you 
seen  Tresham"?" 

"No,"  replied  Bates.  "His  illness 
was  a  mere  pretence.  He  has  left  Rush- 
ton  secretly  for  London." 

"  I  knew  it,"  cried  Garnet.  "  He  has 
again  betrayed  us." 

"He  shall  die,"  said  Catesby. 

And  the  determination  was  echoed  by 
all  the  other  conspirators. 

Instead  of  retiring  to  rest,  they  passed 
the  night  in  anxious  deliberation,  and  it 
was  at  last  proposed  that  Guy  Fawkes 
should  proceed  without  loss  of  time  to 
Southwark,  to  keep  watch  near  the  house 
of  Lord  Mounteagle,  and  if  possible  ascer- 
tain whether  Tresham  had  visited  it. 

To  this  he  readily  agreed.  But  before 
selling  out,  he  took  Catesby  aside  for  a 
moment,  and  asked,  "  Did  you  see  Vivi- 
ana  at  Coughtonl" 

Only  for  a  moment,  and  that  just  before 
I  left  the  place,"  was  the  answer.  "  She 
desired  to  be  remembered  to  you,  and  said 
you  were  never  absent  from  her  thoughts 
or  prayers." 

Guy  Fawkes  turned  away  to  hide  his 
emotion,  and  mounting  one  of  the  horses 
brought  by  the  consj)irators  rode  off  to- 
wards London. 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


137 


CHAPTER  XII. 
THE  FIFTH  OF  NOVEMBER. 


On  the  same  day  as  the  occurrences  last 
related,  Lord  Mounteagle,  who  was  then 
staying  at  Soutliwark,  suddenly  intimated 
his  intention  of  passing  the  night  at  his 
country  mansion  at  Hoxton;  a  change  of 
place  which,  trivial  as  it  seemed  at  the 
moment,  afterwards  assumed  an  import- 
ance, from  the  circumstances  that  arose  out 
of  it.  At  the  latter  part  of  the  day,  he  ac- 
cordingly proceeded  to  Hoxton,  accompa- 
nied by  his  customary  attendants,  and  all 
appeared  to  pass  on  as  usual,  until  just  as 
supper  was  over,  one  of  his  pages  arrived 
from  town,  and  desired  to  see  his  lordship 
immediately. 

Affecting  to  treat  the  matter  with  indif- 
ference. Lord  Mounteagle  carelessly  order- 
ed the  youth  to  be  ushered  into  his  pres- 
ence, and  when  he  appeared,  he  demanded 
his  business.  The  page  replied,  that  he 
brought  a  letter  for  liis  lordship,  which 
had  been  delivered  under  circumstances  of 
great  mystery. 

"I  had  left  the  house  just  as  it  grew 
dusk,"  he  said,  "on  an  errand  of  little  im- 
portance, when  a  man  muffled  in  a  cloak, 
suddenly  issued  from  behind  a  corner,  and 
demanded  whether  I  was  one  of  your  lord- 
ship's servants]  On  my  replying  in  the 
affirmative  he  produced  this  letter,  and  en- 
joined me  as  I  valued  my  life  and  your 
lordship's  safety,  to  deliver  it  into  your 
own  hands  without  delay." 

So  saying,  he  delivered  the  letter  to  his 
lord,  who,  gazing  at  its  address,  which 
was,  "  To  the  Right  Honorable  the  Lord 
Mounteagle,"  observed,  "  There  is  nothing 
very  formidable  in  its  appearance.  What 
can  it  mean]" 

Without  even  breaking  the  seal,  which 
was  secured  with  a  silken  thread,  he  gave 
it  to  one  of  his  gentlemen,  named  Ward, 
who  was  standing  near  him. 

"  Read  it  aloud,  sir,"  said  the  earl,  with 
a  slight  smile.  "  I  have  no  doubt  it  is 
some  vaporing  elTusion,  which  will  afford 
us  occasion  for  laughter.  Before  I  hear 
what  the  writer  has  to  say,  I  can  promise 
him  he  shall  not  intimidate  me." 

Thus  exhorted,  Ward  broke  open  the 
letter,  and  read  as  follows: — 

"  My  lord,  out  of  the  love  I  bear  to  some 
of  your  friends,  I  have  a  care  of  your  pre- 
servation. Therefore,  I  would  advise  you, 
as  you  tender  your  life,  to  devise  some  ex- 
cuse to  sbift  from  your  attendance  at  this 
Parliament,  for  God  and  man  have  con- 
curred to  punish  the  wickedness  of  this 
lime.     Think  not  slightingly  of  this  ad- 


vice, but  retire  into  the  country,  whore  you 
may  expect  the  event  in  safety,  for  though 
there  be  no  appearance  of  any  stir,  yet  I 
say  they  siiall  receive  a  terrible  blow  this 
Parliament,  and  yet  they  shall  not  know 
who  hurts  them.  This  counsel  is  not  to 
be  contemned.  It  may  do  you  good,  and 
can  do  you  no  harm,  for  the  danger  is 
passed  as  soon  as  you  have  burned  tiie 
letter.  God,  I  hope,  will  give  you  grace 
to  make  good  use  of  it,  to  whose  holy  pro- 
tection 1  commend  you." 

"A  singular  letter!"  exclaimed  Mount- 
eagle, as  soon  as  W'ard  had  finished. 
"What  is  your  opinion  of  it]" 

"  I  think  it  hints  at  some  dangerous 
plot,  my  lord,"  replied  Ward,  who  had 
received  his  instructions,  "  some  treason 
against  the  state.  With  submission,  I 
would  advise  your  lordship  instantly  to 
take  it  to  the  Earl  of  Salisbury." 

"  I  see  nothing  in  it,"  replied  the  earl. 
"  What  is  your  opinion,  Mervyn]"  he  add- 
ed, turning  to  another  of  his  gentlemen, 
to  whom  he  had  likewise  given  iiis  lesson. 

"  I  am  of  the  same  mind  as  Ward,"  re- 
plied the  attendant.  "  Your  lordship  will 
hardly  hold  yourself  excused,  if  you  ne- 
glect to  give  due  warning,  should  aught 
occur  hereafter." 

"  Say  you  so,  sirs]"  cried  Lord  Mount- 
eagle.    "  Let  me  hear  it  once  more." 

The  letter  was  accordingly  read  again 
by  Ward,  and  the  earl  feigned  to  weigh 
over  each  passage. 

"  I  am  advised  not  to  attend  the  Parlia- 
ment," he  said,  "  'for  God  and  man  have 
concurred  to  punish  the  wickedness  of  this 
time.'  That  is  too  vague  to  be  regarded. 
Then  I  am  urged  to  retire  into  the  country. 
The  recommendation  must  proceed  from 
some  discontented  Catholic,  who  does  not 
wish  me  to  be  present  at  the  opening  of 
the  house.  This  is  not  the  first  time  I  iiave 
been  so  adjured.  'They  shall  receive  a 
terrible  blow  this  Parliament,  and  yet  shall 
not  say  who  hurts  them.'  That  is  mysteri- 
ous enough,  but  it  may  mean  nothing — 
any  more  than  what  follows,  namely,  '  the 
danger  is  passed  as  soon  as  you  have  burnt 
the  letter." 

"  I  do  not  think  so,  my  lord,"  replied 
Ward;  "and  though  I  cannot  explain  the 
riddle,  I  am  sure  it  means  miscbief." 

"  Well,"  said  Lord  INIounteagle,  "  sinco 
you  are  of  this  mind,  I  must  lose  no  time 
in  communicating  the  letter  to  the  Secre- 
tary of  State.  It  is  better  to  err  on  the 
safe  side." 


138 


GUY    FAWKES. 


Accordingly,  after  some  further  consulta- 
tion, he  set  out  at  that  late  hour  for  White- 
hall, where  he  roused  the  Earl  of  Salisbury, 
and  showed  him  the  letter.  It  is  almost 
needless  to  state  that  the  whole  was  a  pre- 
concerted scheme  between  these  two  crafty 
statesmen;  but  as  the  interview  took  place 
in  the  presence  of  their  attendants,  the  ut- 
most caution  was  observed. 

Salisbury  pretended  to  be  greatly  alarm- 
ed at  the  communication,  and  coupling  it, 
he  said,  with  previous  intelligence  which 
he  had  received,  he  could  not  help  fearing, 
to  adopt  the  words  of  the  writer  of  the 
mysterious  letter,  that  the  Parliament  was 
indeed  threatened  with  some  "  terrible 
blow."  Acting,  apparentl}',  upon  this 
supposition,  he  caused  such  of  the  lords 
of  the  Privy  Council  as  lodged  at  White- 
hall to  be  summoned,  and  submitting  the 
letter  to  them,  they  all  concurred  in  the 
opinion  that  it  referred  to  some  dangerous 
plot,  though  none  could  give  a  guess  at  its 
precise  nature. 

"It  is  clearly  some  Popish  project," 
said  Salisbury,  "  or  Lord  Mounteagle 
would  not  have  been  the  party  warned. — 
We  must  keep  a  look-out  upon  the  disaf- 
fected of  his  faith. 

"As  I  have  been  the  means  of  revealing 
the  plot  to  your  lordship— if  plot  it  be— I 
must  pray  you  to  deal  gently  with  them," 
rejoined  Mounteagle. 

"  I  will  be  as  lenient  as  I  can,"  return- 
ed Salisbury.  "  But  in  a  matter  of  this 
kind  little  favor  can  be  shown.  If  your 
lordship  will  enable  me  to  discover  the 
principal  actors  in  this  affair,  I  will  take 
care  that  no  innocent  party  suffers." 

"You  ask  an  impossibility,"  replied 
jMounteagle.  "  I  know  nothing  beyond 
what  can  be  gathered  from  that  letter.  But 
I  pray  your  lordship  not  to  make  it  a  means 
of  exercising  unnecessary  severity  towards 
the  members  of  my  religion." 

"  On  that  you  may  rely,"  returned  the 
earl.  "  His  Majesty  will  not  return  from 
the  hunting  expedition  on  which  he  is  en- 
gaged at  Royston  till  Thursday  next,  the 
30th.  I  think  it  scarcely  worth  while  (con- 
sidering his  naturally  timid  nature,  with 
which  your  lordships  are  well  acquainted) 
to  inform  him  of  the  threatened  danger, 
until  his  arrival  at  the  palace.  It  will  then 
be  time  enough  to  take  any  needfui  steps, 
as  Parliament  will  not  meet  for  four  or  live 
days  afterwards." 

In  the  policy  of  this  course  the  Privy 
Councillors  agreed,  and  it  was  arranged 
that  the  matter  should  be  kept  perfectly 
secret  until  the  King's  opinion  had  been 
taken  upon  the  letter.  The  assemblage 
then  broke  up,  it  being  previously  arranged 
that,  for  fear  of  some  attempt  upon  his  life, 
Lord  Mounteagle  should  remain  within  the 


palace  till  full  inquiries  had  been  instituted 
into  the  affair. 

When  the  two  confederate  nobles  were 
left  alone,  Salisbury  observed,  with  a  slight 
laugh  to  his  companion, 

"  Thus  far  we  have  proceeded  well,  and 
without  suspicion,  and,  rely  upon  it,  none 
shall  fall  on  you.  As  soon  as  all  is  over, 
the  most  important  post  the  King  has  to 
bestow  shall  be  yours." 

"  But  whatof  Treshaml"  asked  Mount- 
eagle. "  He  was  the  deliverer  of  this  letter, 
and  I  have  little  faith  in  him." 

"  Hum!"  said  Salisbury,  after  a  mo- 
ment's reflection,  "  if  you  think  it  desira- 
ble, we  can  remove  him  to  the  Tower, 
where  he  can  be  easily  silenced." 

"  It  will  be  better  so,"  replied  Mount- 
eagle. "He  may  else  babble  hereafter. — 
I  gave  him  a  thousand  pounds  to  send  in 
his  own  name  to  the  conspirators  the  other 
day  to  lure  them  into  our  nets. 

"  It  shall  be  repaid  you  a  hundred-fold," 
replied  Salisbur)\  "  But  we  are  observed, 
and  must  therefore  separate." 

So  saying,  he  withdrew  to  his  own 
chamber,  while  Lord  JMounteagle  was 
ushered  to  the  apartments  allotted  to  him. 

To  return  to  Guy  Fawkes.  Arriving  at 
Southwark,  he  stationed  himself  near  Lord 
IMounteagle's  residence.  But  he  observed 
nothmg  to  awaken  his  suspicions,  until 
early  in  the  morning  he  perceived  a  page 
approaching  the  mansion,  whom,  from  his 
livery  he  knew  to  be  one  of  Lord  Mount- 
eagle's  household,  (it  was,  in  fact,  the  very 
youth  who  had  delivered  the  mysterious  ' 
letter,)  and  from  him  he  ascertained  all 
that  had  occurred.  Filled  with  alarm,  and 
scarcely  knowing  what  to  do,  he  crossed 
the  river,  and  proceeding  to  the  cellar,  exa- 
mined the  marks  at  the  door,  and  finding 
all  precisely  as  he  had  left  it,  felt  certain, 
that  whatever  discovery  had  been  made, 
the  magazine  had  not  been  visited. 

He  next  repaired  to  the  house,  of  which 
he  possessed  the  key,  and  was  satisfied 
that  no  one  had  been  there.  Somewhat 
relieved  by  this,  he  yet  determined  to  keep 
watch  during  the  day,  and  concealing 
himself  near  the  cellar  remained  on  the 
look-out  till  night.  But  no  one  came;  nor 
did  anything  occur  to  excite  his  suspicions. 
He  would  not,  however,  quit  his  post  till 
about  six  o'clock  on  the  following  evening, 
when  thinking  further  delay  might  be  at- 
tended with  danger,  he  set  out  to  White 
Webbs,  to  give  his  companions  intelli- 
gence of  the  letter. 

His  news  was  received  by  all  with  the 
greatest  alarm,  and  not  one  except  Cates- 
by,  who  strove  to  put  a  bold  face  upon  the 
matter,  though  he  was  full  of  inward  mis- 
giving, but  confessed  that  he  thought  all 
chance  of  success  was  at  an  end.     While 


GUY    FAWKES. 


139 


deliberating  upon  what  should  be  done  in 
this  fearful  emergency,  they  were  greatly 
alarmed  by  a  sudden  knocking  without. 
All  the  conspirators  concealed  themselves, 
except  Guy  Fawkes,  who  opening  the 
door,  found,  to  his  infinite  surprise,  that 
the  summons  proceeded  from  Tresham. 
He  said  nothing  till  the  other  had  entered 
the  house,  and  then  suddenly  drawing  his 
dagger,  held  it  to  his  throat. 

"  Make  your  shrift  quickly,  traitor,"  he 
cried  in  a  furious  tone,  "  for  your  last  hour 
is  arrived.  What  ho!"  he  shouted  to  the 
others,  who  instantly  issued  from  their 
hiding-places,  "  the  fox  has  ventured  into 
the  lion's  den." 

"  You  distrust  me  wrongfully,"  rejoined 
Tresham,  with  more  confidenee  than  he 
usually  exhibited  in  time  of  danger;  "  I 
am  come  to  warn  you  not  to  betray  you. 
Is  this  the  return  you  make  me  for  the 
service?" 

"  Villain,"  cried  Cateshy,  rushing  up  to 
him,  and  holding  his  drawn  sword  to  his 
breast.  "  You  have  conveyed  the  letter 
to  Lord  Mounteagle." 

"  It  is  false,"  replied  Tresham,  "I  have 
only  just  heard  of  it;  and  in  spite  of  the 
risk  I  knew  I  should  run  from  your  suspi- 
cions, I  came  to  tell  you  what  had  hap- 
pened." 

"  Why  did  you  feign  illness,  hnd  depart 
secretly  for  town,  instead  of  joining  us  at 
Coughton'?"  demanded  Catesby. 

"  I  will  instantly  explain  my  motive, 
which,  though  it  may  not  be  satisfactory 
to  you  on  one  point,  will  be  so  on  another," 
replied  Tresham,  unhesitatingly^and  with 
apparent  frankness.  "  I  was  fearful  you 
would  m.ake  a  further  tool  of  me,  and  re- 
solved not  to  join  you  again  till  a  few  days 
before  the  outbreak  of  the  plot.  To  this 
determination  I  should  have  adhered  had 
I  not  learnt  to-night  that  a  letter  had  been 
transmitted  by  some  one  to  Lord  Mount- 
eagle,  which  he  had  conveyed  to  the  Earl 
of  Salisbury.  It  may  not  convey  any  no 
tion  of  the  plot,  but  it  is  certain  to  occasion 
alarm,  and  I  thought  it  my  duty,  in  spite 
of  every  personal  consideration,  to  give 
you  warning.  If  you  design  to  escape, 
there  is  yet  time.  A  vessel  lies  in  the 
river,  in  which  we  can  all  embark  for 
Flanders." 

'•  Can  he  be  innocent]"  said  Catesby 
in  a  wliisper  to  Garnet. 

"If  I  had  betrayed  you,"  continued 
Tresham,  "I  should  not  have  come  hither. 
And  I  have  no  motive  for  such  baseness, 
for  I  am  in  equal  danger  with  yourselves. 
But  though  the  alarm  has  been  given,  I 
do  not  think  any  discovery  will  be  made. 
They  arc  evidently  on  the  wrong  scent." 

"I  hope  so,"  replied  Catesby;  "  but  I 
fear  tlie  contrary." 


"  Shall  I  put  him  to  death?"  demanded 
Fawkes  of  Garnet. 

"Do  not  sully  your  hands  with  his 
blood,  my  son,"  returned  Garnet.  "If  he 
has  betrayed  us,  he  will  reap  the  traitor's 
reward  here  and  hereafter.  If  he  has  not, 
it  would  be  to  take  away  a  life  unjustly. 
Let  him  depart.  We  shall  feel  more  se- 
cure without  him." 

"  Will  it  be  safe  to  set  him  free,  father?" 
cried  Fawkes. 

"1  think  so,"  replied  Garnet.  "We 
will  not  admit  him  to  our  further  confer- 
ences; but  let  us  act  mercifully." 

The  major  part  of  the  conspirators  con- 
curring in  this  opinion,  though  Fawkes 
and  Catesby  were  opposed  to  it,  Tresham 
was  suffered  to  depart.  As  soon  as  he  was 
gone.  Garnet  avowed  that  the  further  pro- 
secution of  the  design  appeared  so  hazard- 
ous, that  it  ought  to  be  abandoned,  and 
that,  in  his  opinion,  each  of  the  conspira- 
tors had  better  consult  his  own  safety  by 
flight.  He  added,  that  at  some  future 
period  the  design  might  be  resumed,  or 
another  planned,  which  might  be  more  se- 
curely carried  out. 

After  much  discussion,  all  seemed  dis- 
posed to  acquiesce  in  the  proposal  except 
Fawkes,  who  adhered  doggedly  to  his 
purpose,  and  treated  the  danger  so  slight- 
ingly, that  he  gradually  brought  the  others 
round  to  his  views.  At  length,  it  was  re- 
solved that  Garnet  should  set  out  imme- 
diately for  Coughton  Hall,  and  place  him- 
self under  the  protection  of  Sir  Everard 
Digby,  and  there  await  the  result  of  the 
attempt,  while  the  other  conspirators  de- 
cided upon  remaining  in  town,  in  some 
secure  places  of  concealment  until  the 
event  was  known.  Unmoved  as  ever  Guy 
Fawkes  declared  his  intention  of  watching 
over  the  magazine  of  powder. 

"  If  anything  happens  to  me,"  he  said, 
"  you  will  take  care  of  j'ourselves.  You 
well  know  nothing  will  be  wruno-  from 
me." 

Catesby  and  the  others,  aware  of  his 
resolute  nature,  affected  to  remonstrate 
with  him,  but  they  willingly  suffered  him 
to  take  his  own  course.  Attended  by 
Bates,  Garnet  then  set  out  for  Warwick- 
shire, and  the  rest  of  the  conspirators  pro- 
ceeded to  London,  where  they  dispersed, 
after  appointing  Lincoln's  Inn  walks  as 
their  place  of  midniglit  rendezvous.  Each 
then  made  preparations  for  sudden  flight, 
in  case  it  should  be  necessary,  and  Rook- 
wood  provided  relays  of  horses  all  the  way 
to  Dunchurch. 

Guy  Fawkes  alone  remained  at  his  post. 
He  took  up  his  abode  in  the  cellar,  resolved 
to  blow  up  himself  together  with  his  foes 
in  case  of  a  surprise. 

On  Thursday,  the  thirty-first  of  Octo- 


140 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


ber,  the  liing  returned  to  'Whitehall,  and 
the  mysterious  letter  was  laid  before  him 
in  the  presence  of  the  Privy  Council  by 
the  Karl  of  Salisbury.  James  perused  it 
carefully,  but  could  scarcely  hide  his  per- 
plexity. 

"Your  majesty  will  not  fail  to  remark 
the  expressions,  'a  terrible  blow'  to  the 
Parliament,  and  '  that  the  danger  will  be 
past  as  soon  as  you  have  burnt  the  letter,' 
evidently  referring  to  combustion,"  ob- 
served the  earl. 

"  You  are  right,  vSalisbury,"  said  James, 
snatching  at  the  suggestion.  "  I  should 
not  wonder  if  these  mischievous  Papists 
mean  to  blow  us  all  up  with  gunpowder." 

"  Your  majesty  has  received  a  divine 
illumination,"  returned  the  earl.  "Such 
an  idea  never  occurred  to  me;  but  it  must 
be  as  you  intimate." 

"  Undoubtedly — undoubtedly,"  replied 
the  monarch,  pleased  with  the  compliment 
to  his  sagacity,  though  alarmed  by  the 
danger;  "  but  what  desperate  traitors  they 
must  be  to  imagine  such  a  deed.  Blow 
us  up!  God's  mercy,  that  were  a  dread- 
ful death!  And  yet  that  must  evidently 
be  the  meaning  of  the  passage.  How  else 
can  it  be  construed,  except  by  reference  to 
the  suddenness  of  the  act,  which  might  be 
as  quickly  performed  as  that  paper  would 
take  to  be  consumed  in  the  fire?" 

"  Your  majesty's  penetration  has  dis- 
covered the  truth,"  replied  Salisbury, 
"  and  by  the  help  of  your  wisdom  I  will 
fully  develope  this  dark  design.  Where 
think  you  the  powder  may  lie  hidden''" 

"  Are  there  any  vaults  beneath  the  Par- 
liament House]"  demanded  James,  trem- 
bling. "  Heaven  save  us!  We  have  often 
walked  there — perhaps,  over  a  secret 
mine." 

"There  are,"  replied  Salisbury,  "and 
I  am  atrain  indebted  to  your  majesty  for  a 
most  important  suggestion.  Not  a  corner 
in  the  vaults  shall  be  left  unsearched. 
But,  perhaps  you  will  think  with  me,  that, 
in  order  to  catch  these  traitors  in  their  own 
trap,  it  will  be  well  to  defer  the  search  till 
the  very  night  before  the  meeting  of  Par- 
liament." 

"I  was  about  to  recommend  such  a 
course  myself,  Salisbury,"  replied  James. 

"  I  was  sure  you  would  think  so,"  re- 
turned the  earl;  "and  now  I  must  entreat 
you  to  dismiss  the  subject  from  your 
thoughts,  and  to  sleep  securely,  for  you 
may  rely  upon  it  (after  your  majesty's 
discovery)  that  the  plot  shall  be  fully  un- 
ravelled." 

The  significant  tone  in  which  the  earl 
uttered  the  latter  part  of  this  speech,  con- 
vinced the  king  that  he  knew  more  of  the 
matter  than  he  cared  to  confess,  and  he 
contented  himself  with  saying,    "  Well, 


let  it  be  so.  I  trust  all  to  you.  But  I  at 
once  divined  their  purpose — I  at  once  di- 
vined it." 

The  council  then  broke  up,  and  James 
laughed  and  chuckled  to  himself  at  the 
discernment  he  had  displayed.  Nor  was 
he  less  pleased  with  his  minister  for  the 
credit  given  him  in  the  affair.  But  he 
took  care  not  to  enter  the  Parliament 
House. 

On  the  afternoon  of  Monday,  the  fourth 
of  November,  the  Lord  Chamberlain,  ac- 
companied by  the  Lords  Salisbury  and 
Mounteagle,  visited  the  cellars  and  vaults 
beneath  the  Parliament  House.  For  some 
time,  they  discovered  nothing  to  excite 
suspicion.  At  length,  probably  at  the  sug- 
gestion of  Lord  Mounteagle,  who,  as  will 
be  recollected,  was  acquainted  with  the 
situation  of  the  magazine,  they  proceeded 
to  the  cellar  where  they  found  the  store  of 
powder,  but  not  meeting  with  any  of  the 
conspirators,  as  they  expected,  they  dis- 
turbed nothing,  and  went  away,  reporting 
the  result  of  their  search  to  the  king. 

By  the  recommendation  of  the  Earl  of 
Salisbury,  James  advised  that  a  guard 
should  he  placed  near  the  cellar  during  the 
whole  of  the  night,  consisting  of  Topcliffe 
and  a  certain  number  of  attendants,  and 
headed  by  Sir  Thomas  Knevet,  a  magis- 
trate of  VVestminster,  upon  whose  courage 
and  discretion  full  reliance  could  be  placed. 
Lord  Mounteagle  also  requested  permis- 
sion to  keep  guard  with  them  to  witness 
the  result  of  the  affair.  To  this  the  king 
assented,  and  as  soon  as  it  grew  dark,  the  ' 
party  secretly  took  up  their  position  at  a 
point  commanding  the  entrance  of  the 
magazine. 

Fawkes,  who  chanced  to  be  absent  at 
the  time  the  search  was  made,  returned  a 
few  minutes  afterwards,  and  remained 
within  the  cellar,  seated  upon  a  barrel  of 
gunpowder,  the  head  of  whicii  he  had 
staved  in,  with  a  lantern  in  one  hand,  and 
pelronel  in  the  other,  till  past  midnight. 

The  fifth  of  November  was  now  at  hand, 
and  the  clock  of  the  adjoining  abbey  had 
scarcely  ceased  tolling  the  hour  that  pro- 
claimed its  arrival,  when  Fawkes,  some- 
what wearied  with  his  solitary  watching, 
determined  to  repair  for  a  short  space  to 
the  adjoining  house.  He,  accordingly, 
quitted  the  cellar,  leaving  his  lantern 
lighted  witiiin  it  in  one  corner. 

Opening  the  door,  he  gazed  cautiously 
around,  but  perceiving  nothing,  after  wait- 
ing a  few  seconds,  he  proceeded  to  lock 
the  door.  While  thus  employed,  he 
thought  he  heard  a  noise  behind  him,  and 
turning  suddenly,  he  beheld  through  the 
gloom  several  persons  rushing  towards 
him,  evidently  with  hostile  intent.  His 
first  impulse  was  to  draw  a  petronel,  and 


GUY    FAWKES. 


141 


grasp  his  sword.  But  before  he  could 
effect  his  purpose,  his  arms  were  pinioned 
by  a  powerful  grasp  from  behind,  while 
the  li<rht   of  a  lantern  thrown  full  in  his 


face  revealed  the  barrel  of  a  petronel  level- 
led at  his  iiead,  and  an  authoritative  voice 
commanded  hira  in  the  king's  name  to  sur- 
render. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 


THE  FLIGHT  OF  THE  CONSPIRATORS. 


On  the  same  night,  and  at  the  same 
hour  that  Guy  Fawkes  was  captured,  the 
other  conspirators  held  their  rendezvous  in 
Lincoln's  Inn  Walks.  A  presentiment  of 
the  fate  awaiting  them  filled  the  breasts  of 
all,  and  even  Catesby  shared  in  the  gene- 
ral depression.  Plan  after  plan  was  pro- 
posed, and,  as  soon  as  proposed,  rejected; 
and  they  seemed  influenced  only  by  alarm 
and  irresolution.  Feeling,  at  length,  that 
nothing  could  be  done,  and  that  they  were 
only  increasing  their  risk  by  remaining  to- 
gether longer,  they  agreed  to  separate,  ap- 
pointing to  meet  at  the  same  place  on  the 
following  night,  if  their  project  should  not, 
in  the  interim,  be  discovered. 

"  Before  daybreak,"  said  Catesby,  "  I 
will  proceed  to  the  cellar  under  the  Par- 
liament House,  and  ascertain  whether  any 
thing  has  happened  to  Guy  Fawkes.  My 
heart  misgives  me  about  him,  and  I  re- 
proach myself  that  I  have  allowed  him  to 
incur  this  peril  alone." 

"  Guy  Fawkes  is  arrested,"  said  a  voice 
near  them,  "and  is  at  this  moment  under 
examination  before  the  King." 

"  It  is  Tresham  who  speaks,"  cried 
Catesjpy,  "  secure  him." 

The  injunction  was  instantly  obeyed. — 
Tresham  was  seized,  and  several  weapons 
pointed  at  his  breast.  He  did  not,  how- 
ever, appear  to  be  dismayed,  but  so  far  as 
could  be  discerned  in  the  obscurity,  seemed 
to  maintain  great  boldness  of  demeanor. 

"  I  have  again  ventured  among  you  at 
the  hazard  of  my  life,"  he  said,  in  a  firm 
tone,  "  to  give  you  this  most  important  in- 
telligence; and  am  requited,  as  I  have 
ever  been  of  late,  with  menaces  and  vio- 
lence. Stab  me,  and  see  whether  my 
death  will  avail  you  in  this  extremity.  I 
am  in  equal  danger  with  yourselves;  and 
whether  I  perish  by  your  hands,  or  by 
those  of  the  executioner,  is  of  little  mo- 
ment." 

"  Let  me  question  him  before  we  avenge 
ourselves  upon  him,"  said  Catesby  to 
Rookwood.  "  How  do  you  know  that 
Guy  Fawkes  is  a  prisoner!" 

"I  saw  him  taken,"  replied  Tresham, 
"  and  esteem  myself  singularly  fortunate 
that  I  escaped  the  same  fate.     Thouirh  ex- 

13 


eluded  from  further  share  in  the  project,  I 
could  not  divest  myself  of  a  strong  desire 
to  know  how  matters  were  going  on,  and 
I  resolved  to  visit  the  cellar  secretly  at 
midnight.  As  I  stealthily  approached  it, 
I  remarked  several  armed  figures  beneath 
a  gateway,  and  conjecturing  their  purpose, 
instantly  concealed  myself  behind  a  pro- 
jection of  the  wall.  J  had  not  been  in  this 
situation  many  minutes,  when  the  cellar 
door  opened,  and  Guy  Fawkes  issued 
from  it." 

"  Well!"  cried  Catesby,  breathlessly. 

"  The  party  I  had  noticed  immediately 
rushed  forward,  and  secured  him  before  he 
could  offer  any  resistance,"  continued 
Tresham.  "  After  a  brief  struggle,  certain 
of  their  number  dragged  him  into  the 
cellar,  while  others  kept  watch  without. 
I  should  now  have  flown,  but  my  limbs 
refused  their  oflice,  and  I  was  therefore 
compelled,  however  reluctantly  to  see  the 
end  of  it.  In  a  short  time  Guy  Fawkes 
was  brought  forth  again,  and  I  heard  some 
in  authority  give  directions  that  he  should 
be  instantly  taken  to  Whitehall,  to  be  in- 
terrogated before  the  King  and  the  Privy 
Council.  He  was  then  led  awa)',  and  a 
guard  placed  at  the  door  of  the  cellar. — 
Feeling  certain  I  should  be  discovered,  I 
continued  for  some  time  in  an  agony  of 
apprehension,  not  daring  to  stir.  But,  at 
length,  summoning  up  sufficient  resolu- 
tion, I  crept  cautiously  along  the  side  of 
the  wall,  and  got  oft'  unperceived.  JMy 
first  object  was  to  warn  you." 

"How  did  you  become  acquainted  with 
our  place  of  rendezvous'?"  demanded  the 
elder  Wright. 

"  I  overheard  you,  at  our  last  interview 
at  White  Webbs,  appoint  a  midnight 
meeting  in  this  place,"  ri'i)liod  Tresham, 
"  and  I  hurried  hither  in  the  iiope  of  find- 
ing you,  and  have  not  been  disappointed." 

"When  I  give  the  word,  plunge  your 
swords  into  his  breast,"  said  Catesby,  in 
a  low  tone. 

"  Hold!"  cried  Percy,  taking  him  aside. 
"If  we  put  him  to  death  in  this  spot,  iiis 
body  will  be  found,  and  his  slaughter  may 


awaken     suspicions     against     us. 
Fawkes  will  reveal  nothing." 


Guy 


143 


GUY    FAWKES. 


"  Of  that  I  am  •vrell  assured,"  said 
Catesby.  "  Shall  we  take  the  traitor 
with  us  to  some  secure  retreat,  where  we 
can  detain  him  till  we  learn  what  takes 
place  at  the  palace,  and  if  we  find  he  has 
betrayed  us,  despatch  him"?" 

"  That  would  answer  no  good  purpose," 
returned  Percy.  "The  sooner  we  are  rid 
of  him  the  better.  We  can  then  deliberate 
as  to  what  is  best  to  be  done." 

"  You  are  right,"  rejoined  Catesb)'. — 
"  If  he  has  betrayed  us,  life  will  be  a  bur- 
then to  him,  and  the  greatest  kindness  we 
could  render  him  would  be  to  rid  him  of  it. 
Let  him  go.  Tresham,"  he  added,  in  a 
loud  voice,  "you  are  free.  But  we  meet 
no  more." 

"  We  have  not  parted  yet,"  cried  the 
traitor,  springing  backwards,  and  uttering 
a  loud  cry.  "  I  arrest  you  all  in  the 
King's  name." 

The  signal  was  answered  by  a  band  of 
soldiers,  who  emerged  from  behind  the 
trees  where  they  had  hitherto  been  con- 
cealed, and  instantly  surrounded  the  con- 
spirators. 

"  It  is  now  my  turn  to  threaten," 
laughed  Tresham. 

Catesby  replied  by  drawing  a  petronel, 
and  firing  it  in  the  supposed  direction  of 
the  speaker.  But  he  missed  his  mark. 
The  ball  lodged  in  the  brain  of  a  soldier 
who  was  standing  beside  him,  and  the  ill- 
fated  wretch  fell  to  the  ground. 

A  desperate  conflict  now  ensued.  Top- 
clifTe,  who  commanded  the  assailing  party, 
ordered  his  followers  to  take  the  conspira- 
tors alive,  and  it  was  mainly  owing  to  this 
injunction  that  the  latter  were  indebted 
for  their  safety.  Whispering  his  direc- 
tions to  his  companions,  Catesby  gave  the 
word,  and  making  a  simultaneous  rush 
forward,  they  broke  through  the  oppos- 
ing ranks,  and  instantly  dispersing,  and 
favored  by  the  gloom,  they  baffled  pursuit. 

"  We  have  failed  in  this  part  of  our 
scheme,"  said  Tresham  to  Topclifie,  as 
they  met  half  an  hour  afterwards.  "  What 
is  to  be  done?" 

"  We  must  take  the  Earl  of  Salisbury's 
advice  upon  it,"  returned  Topcliife.  "  I 
shall  now  hasten  to  Whitehall  to  see  how 
Gu}'^  Fawkes's  interrogation  proceeds,  and 
will  communicate  with  his  lordship." 

Upon  this,  they  separated. 

None  of  the  conspirators  met  again  that 
night.  Each  fled  in  a  different  direction, 
and,  ignorant  of  what  had  happened  to  the 
rest,  sought  some  secure  retreat.  Catesby 
ran  towards  Chancery  Lane,  and  passing 
through  a  narrow  alley,  entered  the  large 
gardens  which  then  lay  between  this 
thoroughfare  and  Fetter  Lane.  Listening 
to  hear  whether  he  was  pursued,  and  find- 
ing nothing  to  alarm  him,  he  threw  him- 


self on  the  sod  beneath  a  tree,  and  was 
lost  in  painful  reflection. 

"  All  my  fair  schemes  are  marred  by 
that  traitor,  Tresham,"  he  muttered.  "I 
could  forgive  myself  for  being  duped  by 
him,  if  I  had  slain  him  when  he  was  in 
my  power.  But  that  he  should  escape  to 
exult  in  our  ruin,  and  reap  the  reward  of 
his  perfidy,  afflicts  me  even  more  than 
failure." 

Tortured  by  thoughts  like  these,  and  in 
vain  endeavoring  to  snatch  such  brief  re- 
pose as  would  fit  him  for  the  fatigue  he 
might  have  to  endure  on  the  morrow,  he 
did  not  quit  his  position  till  late  in  the 
morning  of  a  dull  November  day — it  was, 
as  will  be  recollected,  the  memorable 
Fifth — had  arrived. 

He  then  arose,  and  slouching  his  hat, 
and  wrapping  his  cloak  around  him, 
shaped  his  course  towards  Fleet  Street. 
From  the  knots  of  persons  gathered  to- 
gether at  different  corners — from  their 
muttered  discourse  and  mysterious  looks 
— as  well  as  from  the  general  excitement 
that  prevailed — he  felt  sure  that  some 
rumor  of  the  plot  had  gone  abroad. 
Shunning  observation  as  much  as  he 
could,  he  entered  a  small  tavern  near 
Fleet  Bridge,  and  called  for  a  flask  of 
wine  and  some  food.  While  discussing 
these,  he  was  attracted  by  the  discourse 
of  the  landlord,  who  was  conversing  with 
his  guests  about  the  conspiracy. 

"  I  hear  that  all  the  Papists  are  to  be 
hanged,  drawn,  and  quartered,"  cried  the 
host;  "  and  if  it  be  true,  as  I  have  heard, 
that  this  plot  is  their  contrivance,  they 
deserve  it.  I  hope  I  have  no  believer  in 
that  faith — no  recusant  in  my  house." 

"  Don't  insult  us  by  any  suci)  sus- 
picion," cried  one  of  the  guests.  "  We 
areall  loyal  men — all  good  Protestants. 

"  Do  you  know  whether  the  conspira- 
tors have  been  discovered,  sir?"  asked  the 
host  of  Catesby. 

"I  do  not  even  know  of  the  plot,"  re- 
plied the  other.     "  What  was  its  object?" 

"  What  was  its  object!"  cried  the  host. 
"  You  will  scarcely  credit  me  when  I  tell 
you.  I  tremble  to  speak  of  it.  Its  object 
was  to  blow  up  the  Parliament  House, 
and  the  King  and  all  the  nobles  and  pre- 
lates of  the  land  along  with  it." 

"  Horrible!"  exclaimed  the  guests. 

"But  how  do  you  know  it  is  a  scheme 
of  the  Papists'?"  asked  Catesby. 

"  Because  I  have  been  told  so,"  rejoined 
the  host.  "  But  who  else  could  devise 
such  a  monstrous  plan?  It  would  never 
enter  into  the  head  or  heart  of  a  Protestant 
to  conceive  so  detestable  an  action.  We 
love  our  King  too  well  for  that,  and  would 
shed  the  last  drop  of  our  blood  rather  than 
a  hair  of  his  head  should  be  injured.    But 


GUy    FAWKES. 


143 


these  priest-ridden  Papists  think  other- 
wise. They  regard  him  as  a  usurper;  and 
having  received  a  dispensation  from  the 
Pope  to  that  effect,  fancy  it  would  he  a 
pious  act  to  remove  liim.  Tliere  will  he 
no  tranquillity  in  the  kingdom  while  one 
of  them  is  left  alive;  and  1  hope  his  Ma- 
jesty will  take  advantage  of  the  present 
ferment  to  order  a  general  massacre  of 
them,  like  that  of  the  poor  Protestants  on 
Saint  Bartholomew's  day  in  Paris." 

"Ay — massacre  them,"  cried  the  guests, 
"that's  the  way.  Burn  their  houses,  and 
cut  their  throats.  Will  it  be  lawful  to 
do  so  without  further  authority,  mine 
host]  If  so,  we  will  set  about  it  im- 
mediately." 

"I  cannot  resolve  you  on  that  point," 
replied  the  landlord.  "  You  had  better 
wait  a  short  time.  I  dare  say  their 
slaughter  will  be  publicly  commanded." 

"  Heaven  grant  it  may  be  so!"  cried 
one  of  the  guests,  "I  will  bear  my  part  in 
the  business." 

Catesby  arose,  paid  his  reckoning,  and 
strode  out  of  the  tavern. 

"Do  you  know,  mine  host,"  said  the 
guest  who  had  last  spoken,  "I  half  sus- 
pect that  tall  fellow,  who  has  just  left  us, 
is  a  Papist." 

"Perhaps  a  conspirator,"  said  another. 

"Let  us  watch  him,"  cried  a  third. 

"Stay,"  cried  the  host,  "he  has  paid 
me  double  my  reckoning.  I  believe  him 
to  be  an  honest  man,  and  a  good  Pro- 
testant." 

"  What  you  say  confirms  my  suspi- 
cions," rejoined  the  first  speaker.  "  We 
will  follow  him." 

On  reaching  Temple  Bar,  Catesby  found 
the  gates  closed,  and  a  guard  stationed  at 
them — no  onebeingallowed  to  pass  through 
without  examination.  Not  willing  to  ex- 
pose himself  to  this  scrutiny,  Catesby  turn- 
ed away,  and  in  doing  so,  perceived  three 
of  the  persons  he  had  just  left  in  the  tavern. 
The  expression  of  their  countenances  satis- 
fied him  they  were  dogging  him;  but  affect- 
ing not  to  perceive  it,  he  retraced  his  steps, 
gradually  quickening  his  pace  until  he 
reached  a  narrow  street  leading  into  White- 
friars,  down  which  he  darted.  The  mo- 
ment his  pursuers  saw  this,  they  hurried 
after  him,  shouting,  "  A  Papist — a  Papist! 
—a  conspirator!" 

But  Catesby  was  now  safe.  Claiming 
the  protection  of  certain  Alsatians  who 
were  lounging  at  the  door  of  a  tavern,  and 
offering  to  reward  them,  they  instantly 
drew  their  swords,  and  drove  the  others 
away,  while  Catesby,  tossing  a  few  pieces 
of  money  to  his  preservers,  passed  through 
a  small  doorway  into  the  Temple,  and 
making  the  best  of  his  way  to  the  stairs, 
leapt  into  a  boat,  and  ordered  the  water- 


man to  row  to  W^estminster.  The  man 
obeyed,  and  plying  his  oars,  soon  gained 
tiie  middle  of  the  stream.  Little  way, 
however,  had  been  made,  when  Catesby 
descried  a  large  wherry,  manned  by  seve- 
ral rowers,  swiftly  approaching  them,  and 
instinctively  comprehending  whom  it  con- 
tained, ordered  the  man  to  rest  on  his  oars 
till  it  had  passed. 

In  a  few  moments  the  wherry  approached 
them.  It  was  filled  with  Serjeants  of  the 
guard  and  halberdiers,  in  the  midst  of 
whom  sat  Guy  Fawkes.  Catesby  could 
not  resist  the  impulse  that  prompted  him 
to  rise,  and  the  movement  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  prisoner.  The  monu^itary 
glance  they  exchanged  convinced  Ca'es!)_v 
that  Fawkes  perceived  him,  thougii  iiis 
motionless  features  gave  no  token  of  re- 
cognition, and  he  immediately  afterwards 
fixed  ills  eyes  towards  heaven,  as  if  to  in- 
timate— at  least,  Catesby  so  construed  the 
gesture — that  his  earthly  career  was  well- 
nigh  ended.  Heaving  a  deep  sigh,  Catesby 
watched  the  wherry  swc(;p  on  towards  the 
Tower — its  fatal  destinatyoii — until  it  was 
lost  to  view. 

"  All  is  over,  I  fear,  with  the  bravest  of 
our  band,"  he  thought  as  he  tracked  its 
course;  "  but  some  effort  must  be  made  to 
save  him.  At  all  events,  we  will  die 
sword  in  hand,  and  like  soldiers,  and  not 
as  common  malefactors." 

Abandoning  his  intention  of  proceeding 
to  Westminster,  he  desired  the  man  to 
pull  ashore,  and  landing  at  Arundel  Stairs, 
hastened  to  the  Strand.  Here  he  found 
large  crowds  collected,  the  shops  closed, 
and  business  completely  at  a  stand.  No- 
thing was  talked  of  but  the  conspiracy, 
and  the  most  exaggerated  and  extraordi- 
nary accounts  of  it  were  circulated  and  be- 
lieved. Some  would  have  it  that  the  Par- 
liament House- was  already  blown  up,  and 
that  the  city  of  London  itself  had  been  set 
fire  to  in  several  places  by  the  Papists.  It 
was  also  stated  that  numerous  arrests  had 
taken  place,  and  it  was  certain  that  the 
houses  of  several  Catholic  nobles  and 
wealthy  gentlemen  had  been  searched.  To 
such  a  height  was  the  popular  indignation 
raised,  that  it  required  the  utmost  efforts 
of  the  soldiery  to  prevent  the  mob  from 
breaking  into  these  houses,  and  using  vio- 
lence towards  their  inmates. 

Every  gate  and  avenue  to  the  palace  was 
strictly  guarded,  and  troops  of  horse  were 
continually  scouring  the  streets.  Senti- 
nels were  placed  before  suspected  houses, 
and  no  one  was  suflered  to  enter  them,  or 
to  go  forth  without  special  permission. 
Detachments  of  soldiery  were  also  station- 
ed at  the  end  oi'all  the  main  thoroughfares, 
Bars  were  thrown  across  the  smaller  streets 
and  outlets,  and   proclamation  was  made 


144 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


that  no  one  was  to  quit  the  city,  however 
urgent  his  business,  tor  three  days. 

On  hearing  this  announcement,  Catesby 
saw  at  once  that  if  ho  did  not  effect  his 
escape  immediately,  it  would  be  impracti- 
cable. Accordingly,  he  hurried  towards 
Charing  Cross,  and  turning  up  Saint  Mar- 
tin's Lane,  at  the  back  of  the  King's  Mews, 
contrived  to  elude  the  vigilance  of  the 
guard,  and  speeded  along  the  lane — for  it 
was  tlien  literally  so,  and  surrounded  on 
either  side  by  high  hedges — until  he  came 
to  Saint  Giles's — atthistime,  nothing  more 
than  a  few  scattered  houses  intermixed 
with  trees.  Here  he  encountered  a  man 
mounted  on  a  powerful  steed,  and  seeing 
this  person  look  hard  at  him,  would  have 
drawn  out  of  the  way,  if  the  other  had  not 
addressed  him  by  name.  He  then  regarded 
the  equestrian  more  narrowly,  and  found 
it  was  Martin  Heydocke. 

"  I  have  heard  what  has  happened,  Mr. 
Catesby,"  said  Martin,  '•  and  can  imagine 
the  desperate  strait  in  which  you  must  be 
placed.  Take  my  horse — it  may  aid  your 
flight.  I  was  sent  to  London  by  my  mas- 
ter, Mr.  Humphrey  Chetham,  tobringhim 
intelligence  of  the  result  of  your  attempt, 
and  I  am  sure  I  am  acting  in  accordance 
with  his  wishes  in  rendering  you  such  a 
service.  At  all  events,  I  will  risk  it. 
Mount,  sir — mount,  and  make  the  best  of 
your  way  hence." 

Catesby  needed  no  further  exhortation, 
but  springing  into  the  saddle  hastily  mur- 
mured his  thanks,  and  striking  into  a  lane 
on  the  right,  rode  off  at  a  swift  pace  to- 
wards Highgate. 

On  reaching  the  brow  of  this  beautiful 
hill,  he  drew  in  the  bridle  for  a  moment, 
and  gazed  towards  the  city  he  had  just 
quitted.  Dark  and  bitter  were  his  thoughts 
as  he  fixed  his  eye  upon  Westminster 
Abbey,  and  fancied  he  could  discern  the 
neighboring  pile,  whose  destruction  he  had 
meditated.  Remembering  that  from  this 
very  spot,  when  he  had  last  approached 
the  capital,  in  company  with  Guy  Fawkes 
and  Viviana  Radcliffe,  he  had  looked  in 
the  same  direction,  he  could  not  help  con- 
trasting his  present  sensations  with  those 
he  had  then  experienced.  At  that  time, 
he  was  full  of  ardor,  and  confident  of  suc- 
cess. Now,  all  was  lost  to  him,  and  he 
was  anxious  for  little  more  than  self-pre- 
servation. Involuntarily,  his  eye  wander- 
ed along  the  great  city,  until  passing  over 
the  mighty  fabric  of  Saint  Paul's,  it  set- 
tled upon  the  Tower — upon  the  place  of 
Guy  i'^awkes's  captivity. 

"  And  can  nothing  be  done  for  his  de- 
liverance'?" sighed  Catesby,  as  he  turned 
away,  his  eyes  filling  with  moisture: — 
*'  must  that  brave  soldier  die  the  death  of 
a  felon — must  he  be  subjected  to  the  tor- 


ture—horror! If  he  had  died  defending 
himself,  I  should  scarcely  have  pitied  him. 
And  if  he  had  destroyed  himself,  together 
with  his  foes,  as  he  resolved  to  do,  I 
should  have  envied  him.  But  the  idea  of 
what  he  will  have  to  suffer  in  that  dread- 
ful place — nay,  what  he  is  now,  perhaps, 
suffering — makes  the  life-blood  curdle  in 
my  veins.  I  will  never  fall  alive  into 
their  hands." 

With  this  resolve,  he  struck  spurs  into 
his  steed,  and,  urging  him  to  a  swift  pace, 
dashed  rapidly  forward.  He  had  ridden 
more  than  a  mile,  when  hearing  shouts 
behind  him,  he  perceived  two  troopers  gal- 
loping after  him  as  fast  as  their  horses 
could  carry  them.  They  shouted  to  him 
to  stay,  and  as  they  were  belter  mounted 
than  he  was,  it  was  evident  they  would 
soon  come  up  with  him.  Determined, 
however,  to  adhere  to  the  resolution  he 
had  just  formed,  and  not  to  yield  himself 
with  life,  he  prepared  for  a  conflict,  and 
suddenly  halting,  he  concealed  a  petronel 
beneath  his  cloak,  and  waited  till  his  foes 
drew  near. 

"  I  command  you  in  the  king's  name  to 
surrender,"  said  the  foremost  trooper,  rid- 
ing up.     "  You  are  a  rebel  and  a  traitor." 

"  Be  this  my  answer,"  replied  Catesby, 
aiming  at  the  man,  and  firing  with  such 
certainty,  that  he  fell  from  his  horse  mor- 
tally wounded.  Unsheathing  his  sword, 
he  then  prepared  to  attack  the  other  trooper. 
But,  terrified  at  the  fate  of  his  comrade, 
the  man  turned  his  horse's  head,  and  rode 
off. 

Without  bestowing  a  thought  on  the  dy- 
ing man,  who  lay  oroaning  in  the  mire, 
Catesby  caught  hold  of  the  bridle  of  his 
horse,  and  satisfied  that  the  animal  was 
better  than  his  own,  mounted  him,  and 
proceeded  at  the  same  headlong  pace  as 
before. 

In  a  short  time  he  reached  Finchley, 
where  several  persons  rushed  from  their 
dwellings  to  inquire  whether  he  brought 
any  intelligence  of  the  plot,  rumors  of 
which  had  already  reached  them.  With- 
out stopping,  Catesby  replied  that  most 
important  discoveries  had  been  made,  and 
that  he  was  carrying  despatches  from  the 
king  to  Northampton.  No  opposition  was 
therefore  offered  him,  and  he  soon  left  all 
traces  of  habitation  behind  him.  Urging 
his  horse  to  its  utmost,  he  arrived,  in  less 
than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  at  (Shipping 
Barnet.  Here  the  same  inquiries  were 
made  as  at  P'inchley,  and  returning  the 
same  answer — for  he  never  relaxed  his 
speed  for  a  moment — he  pursued  his 
course. 

In  less  than  three  quarters  of  an  hour 
after  this,  he  arrived  at  Saint  Albans,  and 
proceeding  direct  to  the  post-house,  asked 


GUY    FAWKES. 


145 


for  a  horse.  But  instead  of  complyinor 
•with  the  request,  the  landlord  of  the  Rose 
and  Crown — such  was  the  name  of  the 
hostel — instantly  withdrew,  and  returned 
the  next  moment  with  an  officer,  who  de- 
sired to  speak  with  Catesby  before  he  pro- 
ceeded further.  The  latter,  however,  took 
no  notice  of  the  demand,  but  rode  off. 

The  clatter  of  horses'  hoofs  behind  him 
soon  convinced  him  he  was  again  pursued, 
and  he  was  just  beginning  to  consider  in 
what  way  he  should  make  a  second  de- 
fence, when  he  observed  two  horsemen 
cross  a  lane  on  the  left,  and  make  for  the 
main  road.  His  situation  now  appeared 
highly  perilous,  especially  as  his  pursuers, 
who  had  noticed  the  other  horsemen  at  the 
same  time  as  himself,  shouted  to  them. 
But  he  was  speedily  relieved.  These  per- 
sons, instead  of  stopping,  accelerated  their 
pace,  and  appeared  as  anxious  as  he  was 
to  avoid  those  behind  him. 

They  were  now  within  a  short  distance 
of  Dunstable,  and  were  ascending  the 
lovely  downs  which  lie  on  the  London 
side  of  this  ancient  town,  when  one  of  the 
horsemen  in  front  chancing  to  turn  round, 
Catesby  perceived  it  was  Rookwood.  Over- 
joyed at  the  discovery,  he  shouted  to  him 
at  the  top  of  his  voice,  and  the  other,  who 
it  presently  appeared  was  accompanied  by 
Keyes,  instantly  stopped.  In  a  few  seconds, 
Catesby  was  by  their  side,  and  a  rapid  ex- 
planation taking  place,  they  all  three  drew 
up  in  order  of  battle. 

By  this  time,  their  pursuers  had  arrived 
within  a  hundred  yards  of  them,  and  see- 
ing how  matters  stood,  and  not  willing  to 
hazard  an  engagement,  after  a  brief  con- 
sultation, retired.  The  three  friends  then 
pursued  their  route,  passed  through  Dun- 
stable, and  without  pausing  a  moment  on 
the  road,  soon  neared  Fenny  Stratford. 
Just  before  they  arrived  at  this  place, 
Catesby's  horse  fell  from  exhaustion.  In- 
stantly extricating  himself  from  the  fallen 
animal,  he  ran  by  the  side  of  his  compan- 
ions till  they  got  to  the  town,  where  Rook- 
wood, who  had  placed  relays  on  the  road, 
changed  his  liorse,  and  the  others  were 
fortunate  enough  to  procure  fresh  steeds. 

Proceeding  with  unabated  impetuosity, 
they  soon  cleared  a  few  more  miles,  and 
had  just  left  Stoney  Stratford  behind  them, 
when  they  overtook  a  solitary  horseman, 
who  proved  to  be  John  Wright,  and  a  lit- 
tle further  on  they  came  up  with  Percy, 
and  Christopher  VVright. 

Though  their  numbers  were  thus  in- 
creased, they  did  not  consider  themselves 
secure,  but  Hinging  their  cloaks  away  to 
enable  them  to  proceed  with  greater  expe- 
dition, hurried  on  to  Towcester.  Here 
Keyes  quitted  his  companions,  and  shaped 
his  course  into  Warwickshire,  where  he 


was  afterwards  taken,  while  the  others, 
having  procured  fresh  horses,  made  the 
best  of  their  way  to  Ashby  Saint  Legcr's. 

About  six  o'clock,  Catesby  and  his  com- 
panions arrived  at  his  old  family  seat, 
which  he  had  expected  to  approach  in  tri- 
umph, but  which  he  now  approached  with 
feelings  of  the  deepest  mortification  and 
disappointment.  They  found  the  house 
filled  with  guests,  among  whom  was 
Robert  Winter — who  were  just  sitting 
down  to  supper.  Catesby  rushed  into  the 
room  in  which  these  persons  were  assem- 
bled, covered  with  mud  and  dirt — his  hag- 
gard looks  and  dejected  appearance  pro- 
claiming that  his  project  had  failed.  His 
friends  followed,  and  their  appearance  con- 
firmed the  impression  that  he  had  produced. 
Lady  Catesby  hastened  to  her  son,  and 
strove  to  comfort  him,  but  he  rudely  re- 
pulsed her. 

"  What  is  the  matter]"  she  anxiously 
inquired. 

"  What  is  the  matter'?"  cried  Catesby 
in  a  furious  tone,  and  stamping  his  foot  to 
the  ground.  "  All  is  lost!  our  scheme  is 
discovered;  Guy  Fawkes  is  a  prisoner, 
and  ere  long  we  shall  all  be  led  to  the 
block.  Yes  all,"  he  repeated,  gazing 
sternly  around. 

"1  will  never  be  led  thither  with  life," 
said  Robert  Winter. 

"  Nor  I,"  added  a  young  Catholic  gen- 
tleman, named  Acton  of  Ribbesford,  who 
had  lately  joined  the  conspiracy;  "  though 
the  great  design  has  failed,  we  are  yet  free, 
and  have  swords  to  draw,  and  arms  to 
wield  them." 

"Ay,"  exclaimed  Robert  Winter,  "all 
our  friends  are  assembled  at  Dunchurch. 
Let  us  join  them  instantly,  and  we  may 
yet  stir  up  a  rebellion,  which  may  accom- 
plish all  we  can  desire.  I,  myself  accom- 
panied Humphrey  Littleton  to  Dunchurch 
this  morning,  and  know  we  shall  find 
everything  in  readiness." 

"  Do  not  despair,"  cried  Lady  Catesby, 
"  all  will  yet  be  well.  Every  member  of 
our  faith  will  join  you,  and  you  will  soon 
muster  a  formidable  army." 

"  We  must  not  yield  without  a  blow," 
cried  Percy,  pouring  out  a  bumper  of  wine, 
and  swallowing  it  at  a  draught. 

"You  are  right,"  said  Rookwood,  imi- 
tating his  example.  "  We  will  sell  our 
lives  dearly." 

"  If  you  will  adhere  to  this  resolution, 
gentlemen,"  rejoined  Catesby,  "we  may 
yet  retrieve  our  loss.  With  five  hundred 
staunch  followers,  who  will  stand  by  me 
to  the  last,  I  will  engage  to  raise  such  a 
rebellion  in  Hngland  as  shall  not  bo  check- 
ed, except  by  the  acknowledgement  of 
our  ri gilts,  or  the  dethronement  of  the 
King." 

13* 


146 


GUY    FAWKES. 


"  We  will  stand  by  you,"  cried  th 
others. 

"  Swear  it,"  cried  Catesby,  raising  the 
glass  to  his  lips. 

"  We  do,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Wearied  as  we  are,"  cried  Catesby, 
"  we  must  at  once  proceed  to  Dunchurcli, 
and  urge  our  friends  to  rise  in  arms  with 
us." 

"  Agreed,"  cried  the  otliers. 

Summoning  all  his  household,  and  arm- 
ing them,  Catesby  then  set  out  with  the 
rest  for  Dunchurch,  which  lay  about  five 
miles  from  Ashby  Saint  Leger's.  They 
arrived  there  in  about  three  quarters  of  an 
hour,  and  found  the  mansion  crowded  with 
Catholic  gentlemen  and  their  servants. 
Entering  the  banquet  hall,  they  found  Sir 
Everard  Digby  at  the  head  of  the  board, 
with  Garnet  on  his  right  hand.  Upwards 
of  sixty  persons  were  seated  at  the  table. 
Their  arrival  was  greeted  with  loud  shouts, 
and  several  of  the  guests  drew  their  swords 
and  flourished  them  over  their  heads, 

"  What  riewsr'  cried  Sir  Everard  Dig- 
by.     "  Is  the  blow  struck?" 

"  No,"  replied  Catesby;  "  we  have  been 
betrayed." 

A  deep  silence  prevailed.  A  change 
came  over  the  countenances  of  the  guests. 
Significant  glances  were  exchanged,  and 
it  was  evident  that  general  uneasiness 
prevailed. 

"  What  is  to  be  done?"  cried  Sir  Eve- 
rard Digby,  after  a  pause. 

"  Our  course  is  clear,"  returned  Cates- 
by. "  We  must  stand  by  each  other.  In 
that  case,  we  have  nothing  to  fear,  and 
shall  accomplish  our  purpose,  though  not 
in  the  way  originally  intended." 

"  I  will  have  nothing  further  to  do  with 
the  matti'r,"  said  Sir  Robert  Digby  of 
Coleshill,  Sir  Everard's  uncle.  And 
rising,  be  quitted  the  room  with  several  of 
his   followers,   while    his    example    was 


imitated  by  Humphrey  Littleton,  and 
others. 

"  All  chance  for  the  restoration  of  our 
faith  in  England  is  over,"  observed  Garnet, 
in  a  tone  of  despondency. 

"  Not  so,  father,"  replied  Catesby,  "  if 
we  are  true  to  each  other.  My  friends," 
he  cried,  stopping  those  who  were  about 
to  depart,  "  in  the  name  of  our  holy  reli- 
gion I  beseech  you  to  pause.  Much  is 
against  us  now.  But  let  us  hold  together, 
and  all  will  speedily  be  righted.  Every 
Catholic  in  this  county,  in  Cheshire,  in 
Lancashire,  and  Wales,  must  flock  to  our 
standard  when  it  is  once  displayed.  Do 
not  desert  us — do  not  desert  yourselves — 
for  our  cause  is  your  cause.  I  have  a  large 
force  at  my  command;  so  has  Sir  Everard 
Digby,  and  together  we  can  muster  nearly 
five  hundred  adherents.  With  these,  we 
can  offer  such  a  stand  as  will  enable  us  to 
make  conditions  with  our  opponents,  or 
even  to  engage  with  them  with  a  reason- 
able prospect  of  success.  I  am  well  as- 
sured, moreover,  if  we  lose  no  time,  but 
proceed  to  the  houses  of  our  friends,  we 
shall  have  a  large  army  with  us.  Do  not 
fall  off,  then.  On  you  depends  our  suc- 
cess." 

This  address  was  followed  by  loud  ac- 
clamations, and  all  who  heard  it  agreed  to 
stand  by  the  cause  in  which  they  had  em- 
barked to  the  last. 

As  Catesby  left  the  banqueting-hall 
with  Sir  Everard  to  make  preparations  for 
tlieir  departure,  they  met  Viviana  and  a 
female  attendant. 

"  I  hear  the  enterprise  has  failed,"  she 
cried,  in  a  voice  suflTocated  by  emotion. 
"  What  has  happened  to  my  husband?  Is 
he  safe]     Is  he  w-ith  you?" 

"  Alas!  no,"  replied  Catesby;  "he  is  a 
prisoner." 

Viviana  uttered  aery  of  anguish,  and  fell 
senseless  into  the  arms  of  the  attendant. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 


THE  EXAMINATION. 


Disarmed  by  Sir  Thomas  Knevet  and 
his  followers,  who  found  upon  his  person  a 
packet  of  slow  matches  and  touchwood, 
and  bound  hand  and  foot,  Guy  Fawkes  was 
dragged  into  the  cellar  by  his  captors,  who 
instantly  commenced  their  search.  In  a 
corner  behind  the  door  they  discovered  a 
dark  lantern,  with  a  light  burning  within 
it;  and  moving  witii  the  utmost  caution — 
for  they  were  afraid  of  bringing  sudden 
destruction   upon  themselves — they  soon 


perceived  the  barrels  of  gunpowder  ranged 
against  the  wall.  Carefully  removing  the 
planks,  billets,  and  iron  bars  with  which 
they  were  covered,  they  remarked  that  two 
of  the  casks  were  staved  in,  while  the 
hoops  from  a  third  were  taken  ofl^,  and  the 
powder  scattered  around  it.  They  also 
noticed  that  several  trains  were  laid  along 
the  floor — everything,  in  short,  betokening 
that  the  preparations  for  the  desperate  deed 
were  fully  completed. 


GUY    FAWKES. 


147 


While  tliey  were  makinor  this  investiga- 
tion, Guy  Fawkes,  who  seeing  that  further 
resistance  was  useless,  had  remained  per- 
fectly motionless  up  to  this  moment,  sud- 
denly made  a  struggle  to  free  himself;  and 
so  desperate  was  the  effort,  that  he  burst 
the  leathern  thong  that  bound  his  hands, 
and  seizing  the  soldier  nearest  to  him,  bore 
him  to  the  ground.  He  then  grasped  the 
lower  limbs  of  another,  who  held  a  lan- 
tern, and  strove  to  overthrow  him,  and 
wrest  the  lantern  from  his  grasp,  evidently 
intending  to  apply  the  light  to  the  powder. 
And  he  would  unquestionably  have  execu- 
ted his  terrible  design,  if  three  of  the  most 
powerful  of  the  soldiers  had  not  thrown 
themselves  upon  him,  and  overpowered 
him.  All  this  was  the  work  of  a  moment, 
but  it  v/as  so  startling,  that  Sir  Thomas 
Knevet  and  Topcliffe,  though  both  courage- 
ous men,  and  used  to  scenes  of  danger— 
especially  the  latter— rushed  towards  the 
door,  expecting  some  dreadful  catastrophe 
would  take  place. 

"  Do  him  no  harm,"  cried  Knevet,  as 
he  returned,  to  the  soldiers,  who  were  still 
struggling  with  Fawkes — "  do  him  no 
harm.     It  is  not  here  he  must  die." 

"  A  moment  more,  and  I  had  blown  you 
all  to  perdition,"  cried  Fawkes.  "But 
heaven  ordained  it  otherwise." 

"  Heaven  will  never  assist  such  damna- 
ble designs  as  yours,"  rejoined  Knevet. 
"Thrust  him  into  that  corner,"  he  added 
to  his  men,  who  instantly  obeyed  his  in- 
junctions, and  held  down  the  prisoner  so 
firmly  that  he  could  not  move  a  limb, — 
"Keep  him  there.  I  will  question  him 
presently." 

"  You  may  question  me,"  replied  Guy 
Fawkes,  sternly;  "  but  you  will  obtain  no 
answer." 

"  We  shall  see,"  returned  Knevet. 
Pursuing  the  search  with  Topcliffe,  he 
counted  thirty-six  hogsheads  and  casks  of 
various  sizes,  all  of  which  were  afterwards 
found  to  be  filled  with  powder.  Though  pre- 
pared for  this  discovery,  Knevet  could  not 
repress  his  horror  at  it,  and  gave  vent  to 
execrations  against  the  prisoner,  to  which 
the  other  replied  by  a  disdainful  laugh. — 
They  then  looked  about,  in  the  hope  of 
finding  some  document  or  fragment  of  a 
letter,  which  might  serve  as  a  clue  to  the 
other  parties  connected  with  the  fell  design, 
but  without  success.  Nothing  was  found 
except  a  pile  of  arms;  but  though  they 
examined  tlicm,  no  name  or  cypher  could 
be  traced,  on  any  of  the  weapons. 

"  We  will  now  examine  the  prisoner 
more  narrowly,"  said  Knevet. 

This  was  accordingly  done.  On  remov- 
ing Guy  Fawkes's  doublet,  a  horse-hair 
shirt  appeared,  and  underneath  it,  next  his 
heart,  suspended  by  a  silken  cord  from  his 


neck,  was  a  small  silver  cross.  When  tliis 
was  taken  from  him,  Guy  Fawkes  could 
not  repress  a  deep  sigh. 
I  "  There  is  some  secret  attached  to  that 
cross,"  whispered  Topcliffe,  pluckino- 
Knevet's  sleeve. 

Upon  this,  the  other  held  it  to  the  light, 
while  Topcliffe  kept  his  eye  fixed  upon 
the  prisoner,  and  observed  that,  in  spite  of 
all  his  efforts  to  preserve  an  unmoved  de- 
meanor, he  was  slightly  agitated. 

"  Do  you  perceive  anything?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Knevet,  "  there  is  a 
name.  But  the  character  is  so  small,  I 
cannot  decypher  it." 

"  Let  me  look  at  it,"  said  Topcliffe. — 
"This  is  most  important,"  he  added,  after 
gazing  at  it  for  a  moment;  "  the  words  in- 
scribed on  it  are,  '  Viviana  Radcliffe,  Ord- 
sall  Hall.''  You  may  remember  that  this 
young  lady  was  examined  a  short  time 
ago,  on  suspicion  of  being  connected  with 
some  Popish  plot  against  the  state,  and 
committed  to  the  Tower,  whence  she  es- 
caped in  a  very  extraordinary  manner. — 
This  cross,  found  upon  the  prisoner,  proves 
her  connection  with  the  present  plot. — 
Every  effort  must  be  used  to  discover  her 
retreat." 

Another  deep  sigh  involuntarily  broke 
from  the  breast  of  Guy  Fawkes. 

"  You  hear  how  deeply  interested  he  is 
in  the  matter,"  observed  Topcliffe,  in  a 
low  tone.  "  This  trinket  will  be  of  infinite 
service  to  us  in  future  examinations,  and 
may  do  more  for  us  with  this  stubborn  sub- 
ject even  than  the  rack  itself." 

"  You  are  right,"  returned  Knevet.  "  I 
will  now  convey  him  to  Whitehall,  and 
acquaint  the  Earl  of  Salisbury  with  his 
capture." 

"  Do  so,"  replied  Topcliffe.  "  I  have  a 
further  duty  to  perform.  Before  morning 
I  hope  to  net  the  whole  of  this  wolfish 
pack." 

"  Indeed!"  exclaimed  Knevet.  "  Have 
you  any  knowledge  of  the  others?" 

Topcliffe  smiled  significantly. 

"Time  will  show,"  he  said.  "  But  if 
you  do  not  require  me  further,  I  will  leave 
you." 

With  this,  hn  quitted  the  cellar,  and 
joined  the  Earl  of  INIounteagle  and  Tres- 
ham,  wiio  were  waiting  for  him  outside  at 
a  little  distance  from  the  cellar.  After  a 
brief  conference,  it  was  arranged,  in  com- 
pliance with  the  Earl  of  Salisbury's  wishes, 
that  if  they  failed  in  entrapping  the  conspi- 
rators, nothing  should  he  said  about  the 
matter.  He  then  departed  with  Tresham. 
Their  subsequent  proceedings  have  al- 
ready been  related. 

By  SirThomas  Knevet's  directions,  Guy 
Fawkes  was  now  raised  by  two  of  the  sol- 
diers, and  led  out  of  the  cellar.     As  he 


148 


GUY    FAWKES. 


passed  through  the  door,  he  uttered  a  deep 
groan. 

"  You  ffroan  for  what  you  have  done, 
villain,"  said  one  of  the  soldiers, 

"  On  the  contrary,"  rejoined  Fawkes, 
sternly.  "  I  groan  for  what  I  have  not 
done." 

He  was  then  hurried  along  by  his  con- 
ductors, and  conveyed  through  the  great 
western  gate,  into  the  palace  of  Whitehall, 
where  he  was  placed  in  a  small  room,  the 
windows  of  which  were  strongly  grated. 

Before  quitting  him,  Sir  Thomas  Kne- 
vet  put  several  questions  to  him,  but  he 
maintained  a  stern  and  obstinate  silence. 
Committing  him  to  the  custody  of  an  offi- 
cer of  the  guard,  whom  he  enjoined  to  keep 
strict  guard  over  him,  as  he  valued  his  life, 
Knevet  then  went  in  search  of  the  Earl  of 
Salisbury. 

The  secretary,  who  had  not  retired  to 
rest,  and  was  anxiously  awaiting  his  arri- 
val, was  delighted  with  the  success  of  the 
scheme.  They  were  presently  joined  by 
Lord  iMounteagle;  and  after  a  brief  confer- 
ence it  was  resolved  to  summon  the  Privy 
Council  immediately,  to  rouse  the  King, 
and  acquaint  him  with  what  had  occurred, 
and  to  interrogate  the  prisoner  in  his  pres- 
ence. 

"  Nothing  will  be  obtained  from  him,  I 
fear,"  said  Knevet.  "  He  is  one  of  the 
most  resolute  and  determined  fellows  I 
ever  encountered." 

And  he  then  related  the  desperate  attempt 
made  by  Fawkes  in  the  vault  to  blow  them 
all  up. 

"  Whether  he  will  speak  or  not,  the 
King  must  see  him,"  said  Salisbury.  As 
soon  as  Knevet  was  gone,  the  earl  observed 
to  Mounteagle,  "  You  had  now  better 
leave  the  palace.  You  must  not  appear 
further  in  this  matter,  except  as  we  have 
arranged.  Before  morning,  I  trust  we 
shall  have  the  whole  of  the  conspirators  in 
our  power,  with  damning  proofs  of  their 
guilt." 

"  By  this  time,  my  lord,  they  are  in 
Tresharn's  hands,"  replied  Mounteagle. 

"  If  he  fails,  not  a  word  must  be  said," 
observed  Salisbury.  "  It  must  not  be  sup- 
posed we  have  moved  in  the  matter.  All 
great  statesmen  have  contrived  treasons, 
that  they  might  afterwards  discover  them; 
and  though  1  have  not  contrived  this  plot, 
I  have  known  of  its  existence  from  the 
first,  and  could  at  any  time  have  crushed 
it  had  I  been  so  minded.  But  that  would 
not  have  answered  my  purpose.  And  I 
shall  now  use  it  as  a  pretext  to  crush  the 
whole  Catholic  party,  except  those  on 
whom,  like  yourself,  I  can  confidently  rely." 

"  Your  lordship  must  admit  that  I  have 
well  seconded  your  efforts,"  observed 
Mounteagle. 


"I  do  so,"  replied  Salisbury,  "  and  you 
will  not  find  me  ungrateful.  Farewell!  I 
hope  soon  to  hear  of  our  further  suc- 
cess." 

Mounteagle  then  took  his  departure,  and 
Salisbury  immediately  caused  all  such 
members  of  the  Privy  Council  as  lodged 
in  the  palace  to  be  aroused,  desiring  they 
might  be  informed  that  a  terrible  plot  had 
been  discovered,  and  a  conspirator  arrested. 
In  a  short  time,  the  Duke  of  Lennox,  the 
Earl  of  Marr,  Lord  Hume,  the  Earl  of 
Southampton,  Lord  Henry  Howard,  Lord 
IMountjoy,  Sir  George  Hume,  and  others, 
were  assembled;  and  all  eagerly  inquired 
into  the  occasion  of  the  sudden  alarm. 

Meanwliile,  the  Earl  of  Salisbury  had 
himself  repaired  to  the  king's  bedchamber, 
and  acquainted  him  with  what  had  hap- 
pened. .Tames  immediately  roused  him- 
self, and  desired  the  chamberlain,  who  ac- 
companied the  earl,  to  quit  the  presence. 

"  Will  it  be  safe  to  interrogate  the  pris- 
oner here]"  he  asked. 

"  I  will  take  care  your  Majesty  shall  re- 
ceive no  injury,"  replied  Salisbury,  "and 
it  is  absolutely  necessary  you  sliould  ex- 
amine him  before  he  is  committed  to  the 
Tower." 

"  Let  him  be  brought  before  me,  then, 
directly,"  said  the  kmg.  "  I  am  impa- 
tient to  behold  a  wretch  who  has  conceived 
so  atrocious — so  infernal  a  design  against 
me,  and  against  my  children.  Harke'e, 
Salisbury,  one  caution  I  wish  to  observe. 
Let  a  captain  of  the  guard,  with  his  drawn 
sword  in  hand  place  himself  between  me 
and  the  prisoner,  and  let  two  halberdiers 
stand  beside  him,  and  if  the  villain  moves 
a  step,  bid  them  strike  him  dead.  You 
understand]" 

"  Perfectly,"  replied  Salisbury,  bowing. 

"In  that  case,  you  may  take  off  his 
bonds — that  is,  if  you  think  it  prudent  to 
do  so — not  otherwise,"  continued  James. 
"  I  would  not  have  the  knave  suppose  he 
can  awe  me." 

"  Your  Majesty's  commands  shall  be 
fulfilled  to  the  letter,"  returned  the  earl. 

"  Lose  no  time,  Salisbury,"  cried  James, 
springing  out  of  bed,  and  beginning  to 
dress  himself  without  the  assistance  of  his 
chamberlain. 

The  earl  hastily  retired,  and  ordered  the 
attendants  to  repair  to  their  royal  master. 
He  next  proceeded  to  the  chamber  where 
Guy  Fawkes  was  detained,  and  ordered 
him  to  be  unbound,  and  brought  Iiefore  the 
king.  When  the  prisoner  heard  this  man- 
date, a  slight  smile  crossed  liis  counte- 
nance, but  he  instantly  resumed  his  former 
stern  composure.  The  smile,  however,  did 
not  escape  the  notice  of  Salisbury,  and  he 
commanded  the  halberdiers  to  keep  near  to 
the  prisoner,  and  if  he  made  the  slightest 


GUY    FAWKES. 


149 


move  .nent  in  the  king's  presence,  instantly 
to  despatch  him. 

Giving  some  further  directions,  the  earl 
then  led  the  way  across  a  court,  and  en- 
tering another  wing  of  the  palace,  ascend- 
ed a  flight  of  steps,  and  traversed  a  mag- 
nificent corridor.  Guy  Fawkes  followed, 
attended  by  the  guard.  They  had  now 
reached  the  antichamber  leading  to  the 
royal  sleeping  apartment,  and  Salisbury 
ascertained  from  the  officers  in  attendance 
that  all  was  in  readiness.  Motioning  the 
guard  to  remain  where  they  were,  he  en- 
tered the  inner  room  alone,  and  found 
James  seated  on  a  chair  of  state  near  the 
bed,  surrounded  by  his  council; — the  Earl 
of  Mar  standing  on  his  right  hand,  and  the 
Duke  of  Lennox  on  his  left,  all  anxiously 
awaiting  his  arrival.  Behind  the  King 
were  stationed  half  a  dozen  halberdiers. 

"  The  prisoner  is  without,"  said  Salis- 
bury. "  Is  it  your  Majesty's  pleasure 
that  he  be  admitted]" 

"  Ay,  let  him  come  in  forthwith,"  re- 
plied James.  "Stand  by  me,  my  lords. 
And  do  yon,  varlets,  keep  a  wary  eye 
upon  him.  There  is  no  saying  what  he 
may  attempt," 

Salisbury  then  waved  his  hand.  The 
door  was  thrown  open,  and  an  officer  en- 
tered the  room,  followed  by  Guy  Fawkes, 
who  marched  between  two  halberdiers. — 
When  within  a  couple  of  yards  of  the 
King,  the  officer  halted,  and  withdrew  a 
little  on  the  right,  so  as  to  allow  a  full 
view  of  the  prisoner,  while  he  extended 
his  sword  between  him  and  the  King. — 
Nothing  could  be  more  undaunted  than  the 
looks  and  demeanor  of  Fawkes.  He  strode 
firmly  into  the  room,  and  without  making 
any  reverence,  folded  his  arms  upon  his 
breast,  and  looked  sternly  at  James. 

"A  bold  villain!"  cried  the  King,  as  he 
regarded  him  with  curiosity  not  unmixed 
with  alarm.  "  Who,  and  what  are  you, 
traitor]" 

"  A  conspirator,"  replied  Fawkes. 

"That  1  know,"  rejoined  James, sharply. 
"  But  how  are  you  called]" 

"  John  Johnson,"  answered  Fawkes. 
"  I  am  servant  to  Mr.  Thomas  Percy." 

"That  is  false,"  cried  Salisbury. — 
"Take  heed  that  you  speak  the  truth, 
traitor,  or  the  rack  shall  force  it  from  you." 

"The  rack  will  force  nothing  from  me," 
replied  Fawkes,  sternly;  "  neither  will  I 
answer  any  question  asked  by  your  lord- 
ship." 

"Leave  him  to  me,  Salisbury — leave 
him  to  me,"  interposed  James.  "  And  it 
was  your  hellish  design  to  blow  us  all  up 
with  gunpowder]"  he  demanded. 

"  It  was,"  replied  Fawkes. 


"  And  how  could  you  resolve  to  destroy 
so  many  persons,  none  of  whom  have  in- 
jured you]"  pursued  James. 

"  Dangerous  diseases  require  desperate 
remedies,"  replied  Fawkes.  "  Milder 
means  have  been  tried,  but  without  effect. 
It  was  God's  pleasure  that  this  scheme, 
which  was  for  the  benefit  of  his  holy  re- 
ligion should  not  prosper,  and  therefore  I 
do  not  repine  at  the  result." 

"  And  are  you  so  blinded  as  to  suppose 
that  heaven  can  approve  the  actions  of 
him  who  raises  his  hand  against  the  King 
— against  the  Lord's  anointed]"  cried 
James. 

"  He  is  no  king  who  is  excommunica- 
ted by  the  apostolic  see,"  replied  Fawkes. 

"  This  to  our  face!"  cried  James,  angrily. 
"  Have  you  no  remorse — no  compunction 
for  what  you  have  done]" 

"  My  sole  regret  is  that  I  have  failed," 
replied  Fawkes. 

"  You  will  not  speak  thus  confidently 
on  the  rack,"  said  James. 

"  Try  me,"  replied  Fawkes. 

"  What  purpose  did  you  hope  to  accom- 
plish by  this  atrocious  design]"  demanded 
the  Earl  of  IMar. 

"  My  main  purpose  vras  to  blow  back 
the  beggarly  Scots  to  their  native  moun- 
tains," returned  Fawkes. 

"This  audacity  surpasses  belief,"  said 
James.  "  Mutius  Scffivola,  when  in  the 
presence  of  Porsenna,  was  not  more  reso- 
lute. Harke'e,  villain,  if  I  give  you  your 
life,  will  you  disclose  the  names  of  your 
associates]" 

"  No,"  replied  Fawkes. 

"  They  shall  be  wrung  from  you,"  cried 
Salisbury. 

Fawkes  smiled  contemptuously.  "  You 
know  me  not,"  he  said. 

"  It  is  idle  to  interrogate  him  further," 
said  James.  "^Let  him  be  removed  to  the 
Tower." 

"Be  it  so,"  returned  Salisbury;  "and 
when  next  your  Majesty  questions  him,  I 
trust  it  will  be  in  the  presence  of  his  con- 
federates." 

"Despite  the  villain's  horrible  intent,  I 
cannot  help  admiring  his  courage,"  ob- 
served James,  in  a  low  tone:  "  and  were 
he  as  loyal  as  he  is  brave,  he  should  al- 
ways be  near  our  person." 

With  this,  he  waved  his  hand,  and  Guy 
Fawkes  was  led  forth.  He  was  detained 
by  the  I'^arl  of  Salisbury's  orders  till  the 
morning— it  being  anticipated  that  before 
that  time  the  other  conspirators  would  be 
arrested.  But  as  this  was  not  the  case, 
he  was  placed  in  a  wherry,  and  conveyed, 
as  before  related,  to  the  Tower. 


END  OF  THE  SECOND  BOOK. 


BOOK    THE   THIRD. 


CHAPTER   I. 
HOW  GUY  FAWKES  WAS  PUT  TO  THE  TORTURE. 


Intimation  of  the  arrest  of  Guy  Fawkes 
having  been  sent  to  the  Tower,  his  arrival 
was  anxiously  expected  by  the  warders, 
and  soldiers  composing  the  garrison,  a 
crowd  of  whom  posted  themselves  at  the 
entrance  of  the  Traitor's  Gate,  to  obtain  a 
sight  of  him.  As  the  bark  that  conveyed 
the  prisoner  shot  through  London  Bridge, 
and  neared  the  fortress,  notice  of  its  ap- 
proach was  given  to  the  lieutenant,  who, 
scarcely  less  impatient,  had  stationed  him- 
self in  a  small  circular  chamber  in  one  of 
the  turrets  of  Saint  Thomas's  or  Traitor's 
Tower,  overlooking  the  river.  He  hastily 
descended,  and  had  scarcely  reached  the 
place  of  disembarkation  when  the  boat 
passed  beneath  the  gloomy  archway;  the 
immense  wooden  wicket  closed  behind  it; 
and  the  officer  in  command  springing 
ashore,  was  followed  more  deliberately 
by  Fawkes,  who  mounted  the  slippery 
stairs  with  a  firm  footstep.  As  he  gained 
the  summit,  the  spectators  pressed  for- 
ward, but  Sir  William  Waad,  ordering 
them  in  an  authoritative  tone  to  stand  back, 
fixed  a  stern  and  scrutinizing  glance  on 
the  prisoner. 

"  Many  vile  traitors  have  ascended  those 
steps,"  he  said,  "but  rjone  so  false-heart- 
ed, none  so  bloodthirsty  as  you." 

"None  ever  ascended  them  with  less 
misgiving,  or  with  less  self-reproach," 
replied  Fawkes. 

"Miserable  wretch!  Do  you  glory  in 
your  villany]"  cried  the  lieutenant.  "If 
anything  could  heighten  my  detestation  of 
the  pernicious  creed  you  profess,  it  would 
be  to  witness  its  effects  on  such  minds  as 
yours.  What  a  religion  must  that  be, 
which  can  induce  its  followers  to  commit 
such  monstrous  actions,  and  delude  them 
into  the  belief  that  they  arc  pious  and 
praiseworthy!" 

"  It  is  a  religion,  at  least,  that  supports 
them  at  seasons  when  they  most  require 
it,"  rejoined  Fawkes. 

"Peace!"  cried  the  lieutenant  fiercely, 
*'or  I  will  have  your  viperous  tongue  torn 
out  by  the  roots." 

Turning  to  the  officer,  he  demanded  his 
warrant,  and  glancing  at  it,  gave  some 
directions  to  one  of  the  warders,  and  then 

14 


resumed  his  scrutiny  of  Fawkes,  who 
appeared  wholly  unmoved,  and  steadily 
returned  his  gaze. 

Meanwhile,  several  of  the  spectators, 
eager  to  prove  their  loyalty  to  the  King, 
and  abhorrence  of  the  plot,  loaded  the  pri- 
soner with  execrations,  and  finding  these 
produced  no  effect,  proceeded  to  personal 
outrage.  Some  spat  upon  his  face  and 
garments:  some  threw  mud  gathered  from 
the  slimy  steps  upon  him;  some  pricked 
him  with  the  points  of  their  halberds; 
while  others,  if  they  had  not  been  checked, 
would  have  resorted  to  greater  violence. 
Only  one  bystander  expressed  the  slightest 
commiseration  for  him.  It  was  Ruth  Ip- 
greve,  who,  with  her  parents  formed  part 
of  the  assemblage. 

A  few  kindly  words  pronounced  bythii* 
girl  moved  the  prisoner  more  than  all  the 
insults  he  had  just  experienced.  He  said 
nothing,  but  a  slight  and  almost  impercep- 
tible quivering  of  the  lip  told  what  was 
passing  within.  The  jailer  was  extremely 
indignant  at  his  daughter's  conduct,  fear- 
ing it  might  prejudice  him  in  the  eyes  of 
the  lieutenant. 

"Get  hence,  girl,"  he  cried,  "and  stir 
not  from  thy  room  for  the  rest  of  the 
day.  I  am  sorry  I  allowed  thee  to  come 
forth." 

"You  must  look  to  her,"  Jasper  Ip- 
greve,"  said  Sir  William  Waad,  sternly. 
"No  man  shall  hold  an  office  in  the  Tower 
who  is  a  favourer  of  papacy.  If  you  were 
a  good  Protestant,  and  a  faithful  servant  of 
King  James,  your  daughter  could  never 
have  acted  thus  unbecomingly.  Look  to 
her,  I  say — and  to  yourself." 

"I  will,  honourable  sir,"  replied  Jas- 
per, in  groat  confusion.  "Take  her  home 
directly,"  he  added  in  an  undertone  to  his 
wife.  "Lock  her  up  till  1  return,  and 
scourge  her  if  thou  wilt.  She  will  ruin 
us  by  her  indiscretion." 

In  obedience  to  this  injunction,  Dame 
Ipgreve  seized  her  daughter's  hand,  and 
dragged  her  away.  Ruth  turned  for  a 
moment  to  take  a  last  look  at  the  prisoner, 
and  saw  that  his  gaze  followed  her,  and 
was  fraught  with  an  expression  of  the 
deepest  gratitude.     By  way  of  showing 


152 


GUY    FAWKES. 


his  disapproval  of  his  daughter's  conduct, 
the  jailer  now  joined  the  bitterest  of  Guy 
Fawkes's  assailants;  and  ere  lonj  the 
assemblage  became  infuriated  to  such  an 
un'jovernable  pitch,  that  the  lieutenant, 
who  had  allowed  matters  to  proceed  thus 
far  in  the  hope  of  shaking  the  prisoner's 
constancy,  finding  his  design  fruitless, 
ordered  him  to  be  taken  away.  Escorted 
by  a  dozen  soldiers  with  calivers  on  their 
shoulders,  Guy  Fawkes  was  led  through 
the  archway  of  the  Bloody  Tower,  and 
across  the  green  to  the  Beauchamp  Tower. 
lie  was  placed  in  the  spacious  chamber  on 
the  first  floor  of  that  fortification,  now  used 
as  a  mess-room  by  the  Guards.  Sir  Wil- 
liam VVaad  followed  him,  and  seating  him- 
self at  a  table,  referred  to  the  warrant. 

"You  are  here  called  John  Johnson. 
Is  that  your  name]"  he  demanded. 

"If  you  find  it  thus  written,  you  need 
make  no  farther  inquiry  from  me,"  replied 
Fawkes.  "  I  am  the  person  so  described. 
That  is  suflicient  for  you." 

"  Not  so,"  replied  the  lieutenant;  "and 
if  you  persist  in  this  stubborn  demeanour, 
the  severest  measures  will  be  adopted  to- 
wards you.  Your  sole  chance  of  avoiding 
the  torture  is  in  making  a  full  confession." 

"  I  do  not  desire  to  avoid  the  torture," 
replied  Fawkes.  "It  will  wrest  nothing 
from  me." 

"So  all  think  till  they  have  experienced 
it,"  replied  the  lieutenant ;  "but  greater 
fortitude  than  yours  has  given  way  before 
our  engines." 

Fawkes  smiled  disdainfully,  but  made 
no  answer. 

The  lieutenant  then  gave  directions  that 
he  should  be  placed  within  a  small  cell 
adjoining  the  larger  chamber,  and  that  two 
of  the  guard  should  remain  constantly  be- 
side him,  to  prevent  him  from  doing  him- 
self any  violence. 

"You  need  have  no  fear,"  observed 
Fawkes.  "  1  shall  not  destroy  my  chance 
of  martyrdom." 

At  this  juncture,  a  messenger  arrived, 
bearing  a  despatch  from  the  Earl  of  Salis- 
bury. The  lieutenant  broke  the  seal,  and 
after  hurriedly  perusing  it,  drew  his  sword, 
and  desiring  the  guard  to  station  themselves 
outside  the  door,  approached  Fawkes. 

"  Notwithstanding  the  enormity  of  your 
oiTence,"  he  observed,  "  I  find  his  Majesty 
will  graciously  spare  your  life,  provided 
you  will  reveal  the  names  of  all  your  as- 
sociates, and  disclose  every  particular  con- 
nected with  the  plot." 

Guy  Fawkes  appeared  lost  in  reflection, 
and  the  lieutenant  conceiving  he  had  made 
an  impression  upon  him,  repeated  the 
ofier. 

"  How  am  1  to  be  assured  of  this?"  asked 
the  prisoner. 


"  My  promise  must  suflice,"  rejoined 
Waad. 

"  It  will  not  suffice  to  me,"  returned 
Fawkes.  "I  must  have  a  pardon  signed 
by  the  King." 

"  You  shall  have  it  on  one  condition," 
replied  Waad.  "  You  are  evidenty  troubled 
with  few  scruples.  It  is  the  Earl  of  Sa- 
lisbury's conviction  that  the  heads  of  many 
important  Catholic  families  are  connected 
with  this  plot.  If  they  should  prove  to 
be  so, — or,  to  be  plain,  if  you  will  .-.ccuse 
certain  persons  whom  I  will  specify,  you 
shall  have  the  pardon  you  require.'' 

"  Is  this  the  purport  of  the  Earl  of  Sa- 
lisbury's despatch]"  asked  Guy  Fawkes. 

The  lieutenant  nodded. 

"  Let  me  look  at  it,"  continued  Fawkes. 
"  You  may  be  practising  upon  me." 

"  Your  own  perfidious  nature  makes  you 
suspicious  of  treachery  in  otiiers,"  cried 
the  lieutenant.     "  Will  this  satisfy  you." 

And  he  held  the  letter  towards  Guy 
Fawkes,  who  instantly  snatched  it  from 
his  grasp. 

"  What  ho  !"  he  shouted,  in  a  loud 
voice,  "  What  ho  '."and  the  guards  in- 
stantly rushed  into  the  room.  "  You  shall 
learn  why  you  were  sent  away.  Sir  Wil- 
liam Waad  has  offered  me  my  life,  on  the 
part  of  the  Earl  of  Salisbury,  provided  I 
will  accuse  certain  innocent  parties — inno- 
cent, except  that  they  are  Catholics — of 
being  leagued  with  me  in  my  design. 
Read  this  letter,  and  see  whether  I  speak 
not  the  truth." 

And  he  threw  it  amon?  them.  But  no 
one  stirred,  except  a  warder,  who  picking 
it  up,  delivered  it  to  the  lieutenant. 

"  You  will  now  understand  whom  you 
have  to  deal  with,"  pursued  Fawkes. 

"  I  do,"  replied  Waad  ;  "  but  were  you 
as  unyielding  as  the  walls  of  this  prison, 
I  would  shake  your  obduracy." 

"  I  pray  you  not  to  delay  the  experi- 
ment," said  Fawkes. 

"  Have  a  little  paitience,"  retorted  Waad. 
"  I  will  not  baulk  your  humour,  depend 
upon  it." 

With  this,  he  departed,  and  repairing  to 
his  lodgings,  wrote  a  hasty  despatch  to  the 
Earl,  detailing  all  that  had  passed,  and  re- 
questing a  warrant  for  the  torture,  as  he 
was  apprehensive  if  the  prisoner  expired 
under  the  severe  application  that  would  be 
necessary  to  force  the  truth  from  him,  he 
might  be  called  to  account.  Two  hours 
afterwards,  the  messenger  returned  with 
the  warrant.  It  was  in  the  handwriting  of 
the  King,  and  contained  a  list  of  interroga- 
tions to  be  put  to  the  prisoner,  concluding 
by  directing  him  "to  use  the  gentler  tor- 
ture first,  et  sic  per  gradiis  ad  ima  tendittir. 
And  so  God  speed  you  in  your  good  work!" 

Thus  armed,  and  fearless  of  the  conse- 


GUY    FAWKES. 


153 


quences,  the  lieutenant  summoned  Jasper 
Ipgreve. 

"  We  have  a  very  refractory  prisoner  to 
deal  with,"  he  said,  as  tiie  jailerappeared. 
"  But  I  have  just  received  the  royal  au- 
thority to  put  him  through  all  the  degrees 
of  torture  if  he  continues  obstinate.  How 
shall  we  begin  ]" 

"  With  the  Scavenger's  Daughter  and 
the  Little  Ease,  if  it  please  you,  honourble 
sir,"  replied  Ipgreve.  "If  these  fail,  we 
can  try  the  gauntlets  and  the  rack  ;  and 
lastly,  the  dungeon  among  the  rats,  and 
the  hot  stone." 

"A  good  progression,"  said  the  lieute- 
nant smiling.  "I  will  now  repair  to  the 
torture  chamber.  Let  the  prisoner  be 
brought  there  without  delay.  He  is  in  the 
Beaucliamp  Tower." 

Ipgreve  bowed,  and  departed,  while  the 
lieutenant,  calling  to  an  attendant  to  bring 
a  torch,  proceeded  along  a  narrow  passage 
communicating  with  the  Bell  Tower. 
Opening  a  secret  door  within  it  he  de- 
scended a  flight  of  stone  steps,  and  tra- 
versing a  number  of  intricate  passages,  at 
length  stopped  before  a  strong  door,  which 
he  pushed  aside,  and  entered  the  chamber 
he  had  mentioned  to  Ipgreve.  This  dis- 
mal apartment  has  already  been  described. 
It  was  that  in  which  Viviana's  constancy 
was  so  fearfully  approved.  Two  officials 
in  the  peculiar  garb  of  the  place — a  sable 
livery — were  occupied  in  polishing  the 
various  steel  implements.  Besides  these, 
there  was  the  chirurgeon,  who  was  seated 
at  a  side  table  reading  by  the  light  of  a 
brazen  lamp.  He  instantly  arose  on  see- 
ing the  lieutenant,  and  began  with  the  other 
officials  to  make  preparations  for  the  pri- 
soner's arrival.  The  two  latter  concealed 
their  features  by  drawing  a  large  black 
capoch,  or  hood,  attached  to  their  gowns 
over  them,  and  this  disguise  added  ma- 
terially to  their  lugubrious  appearance. 
One  of  them  took  down  a  broad  iron  hoop, 
opening  in  the  centre  with  a  hinge,  and 
held  it  in  readiness.  Their  preparations 
were  scarcely  completed  when  lieavy  foot- 
steps announced  the  approach  of  Fawkes 
and  his  attendants.  Jasper  Ipgreve  ush- 
ered them  into  the  chamber,  and  fastened 
the  door  behind  them.  Ail  the  subsequent 
proceedings  were  conducted  with  the  ut- 
most deliberation,  and  were  therefore  dou- 
bly impressive.  No  undue  haste  occurred, 
and  the  officials,  v.'ho  might  Irave  been  mis- 
taken for  phantoms  or  evil  spirits,  spoke 
only  in  whispers.  Guy  Fawkes  watched 
their  movements  with  unaltered  composure. 
At  length,  Jasper  Ipgreve  signified  to  the 
lieutenant  that  all  was  ready. 

"  The  opportunity  you  desired  of  having 
your  courage  put  to  the  test  is  now  ar- 
rived," said  the  latter  to  the  prisoner. 


"  What  am  I  to  do?"  was  the  repl}'. 

"Remove  your  doublet,  and  prostrate 
yourself,"  subjoined  Ipgreve. 

Guy  Fawkes  obeyed,  and  when  in  this 
posture  began  audibly  to  recite  a  prayer  to 
the  Virgin. 

"Be  silent,"  cried  the  lieutenant,  "or a 
gag  shall  be  thrust  into  your  mouth." 

Kneeling  upon  the  prisoner's  shoulders, 
and  passing  the  hoop  under  his  legs,  Ip- 
greve tiien  succeeded,  with  the  help  of  his 
assistants,  who  added  their  weight  to  his 
own,  in  fastening  the  hoop  with  an  iron 
button.  Tills  done,  they  left  tiie  prisoner, 
with  his  limbs  and  body  so  tightly  com- 
pressed together,  that  he  was  scarcely  able 
to  breathe.  In  this  state  he  was  allowed 
to  remain  for  an  hour  and  a  half.  The 
chirurgeon  then  found  on  examination,  that 
the  blood  had  burst  profusely  from  his 
mouth  and  nostrils,  and  in  a  slighter  degree 
from  the  extremities  of  his  hands  and  feet. 

"  He  must  be  released,"  he  observed  in 
an  undertone  to  the  lieutenant.  "  Further 
continuance  might  be  fatal." 

Accordingly,  the  hoop  was  removed,  and 
it  was  at  this  moment  that  the  prisoner 
underwent  the  severest  trial.  Despite  his 
effiDrts  to  control  himself,  a  sharp  convul- 
sion passed  across  his  frame,  and  the  re- 
storation of  impeded  circulation  and  re- 
spiration occasioned  him  the  most  acute 
agony. 

The  chirurgeon  bathed  his  temples  with 
vinegar,  and  his  limbs  being  chafed  by  ihe 
officials,  he  was  placed  on  a  bench. 

"  My  warrant  directs  me  to  begin  with 
the  '  gentler  tortures,'  and  to  proceed  by 
degrees  to  extremities,"  observed  the  lieu- 
tenant, significantly.  "  You  have  now 
had  a  taste  of  the  milder  sort,  and  may 
form  some  conjecture  what  the  worst  are 
like.  Do  you  still  continue  contumacious'!" 

"  I  am  in- the  same  mind  as  before,"  re- 
plied Fawkes,  in  a  hoarse  but  firm  voice. 

"Take  him  to  the  Little  Ease,  and  let 
him  pass  the  night  there,"  said  the  lieu- 
tenant. "  To-morrow,  I  will  continue  the 
investigation." 

Fawkes  was  then  led  out  by  Ipgreve  and 
the  officials,  and  conveyed  along  a  narrow 
passage,  until  arriving  at  a  low  door,  in 
which  there  was  an  iron  grating,  it  was 
opened,  and  disclosed  a  narrow  cell  about 
four  feet  high,  one  and  a  few  inches  wide, 
and  two  deep.  Into  this  narrow  recep- 
tacle, which  seemed  wholly  inadequate 
lo  contain  a  tall  and  strongly-built  man 
like  himself,  the  jirisoner  was  with  some 
difficulty  thrust,  and  the  door  locked  upon 
him. 

In  this  miserable  plight,  with  his  head 
bent  upon  iiis  breast— the  cell  being  so 
contrived  that  its  wretched  inmate  could 
neither  sit,  nor  recline  at  full  length  within 


154 


GUY    FAWKES. 


it — Guy  Fawkes  prayed  long  and  fervent- 
ly, and  no  longrer  troubled  by  the  uneasy 
feelings  which  had  for  some  time  haunted 
him,  he  felt  happier  in  his  present  forlorn 
condition  ttian  he  had  been  when  anticipat- 
ing the  full  success  of  his  project. 

"  At  least,"  he  thought,  "  I  shall  now 
win  myself  a  crown  of  martyrdom,  and 
■M'hatever  my  present  sufferings  may  be, 
iliey  will  be  speedily  effaced  by  the  happi- 
ness 1  sliall  enjoy  hereafter." 

Overcome,  at  length,  by  weariness  and 
exhaustion,  he  fell  into  a  sort  of  doze — it 
could  scarcely  be  called  sleep — and  while 
in  this  state,  fancied  he  was  visited  by 
Saint  Winifred,  who,  approaching  the  door 
of  the  cell,  touched  it,  and  it  instantly 
opened.  She  then  placed  her  hand  upon 
his  limbs,  and  the  pain  he  had  hitherto  felt 
in  them  subsided. 

"  Your  troubles  will  soon  be  over," 
murmured  the  saint,  "and  you  will  be  at 
rest.  Do  not  hesitate  to  confess.  Your 
silence  will  neither  serve  your  companions, 
nor  yourself." 

With  these  words  the  vision  disappeared, 
and  Guy  Fawkes  awoke.  Whether  it  was 
the  effect  of  imagination,  or  that  his  robust 
constitution  had  in  reality  shaken  off  the 
effects  of  the  torture,  it  is  impossible  to 
say,  but  it  is  certain  that  he  felt  his  strength 
restored  to  him,  and  attributing  his  re- 
covery entirely  to  the  marvellous  interpo- 
sition of  the  saint,  he  addressed  a  prayer 
of  gratitude  to  her.  While  thus  occupied, 
he  heard — for  it  was  so  dark  he  could  dis- 
tinguish nothing — a  sweet  low  voice  at 
the  grating  of  the  coll,  and  imagining  it 
was  the  same  benign  presence  as  before, 
paused  and  listened. 

"Do  you  hear  mel"  asked  the  voice. 

"I  do,"  replied  Fawkes.  "Is  it  the 
blessed  Winifred  who  again  vouchsafes  to 
address  me?" 

"  Alas,  no!"  replied  the  voice;  "  it  is 
one  of  mortal  mould.  I  am  Ruth  Ipgreve, 
the  jailer's  daughter.  You  may  remember 
that  I  expressed  some  sympathy  in  your 
behalf  at  your  landing  at  Traitor's  Gate 
to-day,  for  which  I  incurred  my  father's 
displeasure.  Hut  you  will  be  quite  sure  1 
am  a  friend,  when  I  tell  you  I  assisted 
Viviana  Radcliffe  to  escape." 

"Ha!"  exclaimed  Guy  Fawkes,  in  a 
tone  of  great  emotion. 

"  I  was  in  some  degree  in  her  confi- 
dence," pursued  Ruth;  "and,  if  1  am  not 
mistaken,  you  are  the  object  of  her  warm- 
est regard." 

The  prisoner  could  not  repress  a  groan. 

"  You  are  Guy  Fawkes,"  pursued  Ruth. 
"Nay,  you  need  have  no  fear  of  me.  1 
have  risked  my  life  for  Viviana,  and  would 
risk  it  for  you." 

"I  will   disguise   nothing  from  you," 


replied  Fawkes.  "I  am  he  you  have 
named.  As  the  husband  of  Viviana — for 
such  I  am,  I  feel  the  deepest  gratitude  to 
you  for  the  service  you  rendered  her.  She 
bitterly  reproached  herself  with  having 
placed  you  in  so  much  danger.  How  did 
you  escape?" 

"  I  was  screened  by  my  parents,"  re- 
plied Ruth.  "It  was  given  out  by  them 
that  Viviana  escaped  through  the  window 
of  her  prison,  and  .1  was  thus  preserved 
from  punishment.     Where  is  she  now?" 

"In  safety,  I  trust,"  replied  Fawkes. 
"Alas!  I  shall  never  behold  her  again." 

"  Do  not  despair,"  returned  Ruth.  "I 
will  try  to  effect  your  liberation;  and 
though  I  have  but  slender  hope  of  accom- 
plishing it,  etill  there  is  a  chance." 

"I  do  not  desire  it,"  returned  Fawkes. 
"I  am  content  to  perish.  All  I  lived  for 
is  at  an  end." 

"  This  shall  not  deter  me  from  trying  to 
save  you,"  replied  Ruth;  "and  I  still  trust 
there  is  happiness  in  store  for  you  with 
Viviana.  Amid  all  your  sufferings,  rest 
certain  there  is  one  who  will  ever  watch 
over  you.  I  dare  not  remain  here  longer, 
for  fear  of  a  surprise.     Farewell!" 

She  then  departed,  and  it  afforded  Guy 
Fawkes  some  solace  to  ponder  on  the  in- 
terview during  the  rest  of  the  night. 

On  the  following  morning,  Jasper  Ip- 
greve appeared,  and  placed  before  him  a 
loaf  of  the  coarsest  bread,  and  a  jug  of 
dirty  water.  His  scanty  meal  ended,  he 
left  him,  but  returned  in  two  hours  after- 
wards with  a  party  of  halberdiers,  and 
desiring  him  to  follow  him,  led  the  way 
to  the  torture-chamber.  Sir  William  Waad 
was  there  when  he  arrived,  and  demanding 
in  a  stern  tone  whether  he  still  continued 
obstinate,  and  receiving  no  answer,  ordered 
him  to  be  placed  in  the  gauntlets.  Upon 
this,  he  was  suspended  from  a  beam  by 
his  hands,  and  endured  five  hours  of  the 
most  excruciating  agony — his  fingers  being 
so  crushed  and  lacerated  that  he  could  not 
move  them. 

He  was  then  taken  down,  and  still 
refusing  to  confess,  was  conveyed  to  a 
horrible  pit,  adjoining  the  river,  called, 
from  the  loathsome  animals  infesting  it, 
"the  dungeon  among  the  rats."  It  was 
about  twenty  feet  wide  and  twelve  deep, 
and  at  high  tide  was  generally  more  than 
two  feet  deep  in  water. 

Into  this  dreadful  chasm  was  Guy 
Fawkes  lowered  by  his  attendants,  who, 
warning  him  of  the  probable  fate  that 
awaited  him,  left  him  in  total  darkness. 
At  this  time,  the  pit  was  free  from  water; 
but  he  had  not  I)een  there  more  than  an 
hour,  when  a  bul)l)ling  and  hissing  sound 
proclaimed  that  the  tide  was  rising,  while 
frequent  plashes  convinced  him  that  the 


GUY     F  A  \V  K  E  S. 


155 


rats  were  at  hanil.  Stoopinpr  down,  he 
felt  that  the  water  was  alive  with  them  — 
that  they  were  all  around  him — and  would 
not,  probably,  delay  their  attack.  Prepared 
as  he  was  for  the  worst,  he  could  not  re- 
press a  shudder  at  the  prospect  of  the  hor- 
rible death  with  which  he  was  menaced. 

At  this  juncture,  he  was  surprised  by 
the  appearance  of  a  lijjht,  and  perceived  at 
the  edge  of  the  pit  a  female  figure  bearing 
a  lantern.  Not  doubting  it  was  his  visit- 
ant of  the  former  night,  he  called  out  to 
her,  and  was  answered  in  the  voice  of 
Ruth  Ipgreve. 

"  I  dare  not  remain  here  many  minutes," 
she  said,  "  because  my  father  suspects  me. 
But  I  could  not  let  you  perisii  thus.  I 
will  let  down  this  lantern  to  you,  and  the 
light  will  keep  away  the  rats.  When  the 
tide  retires  you  can  extinguish  it." 

So  saying,  she  tore  her  kerchief  into 
shreds,  and  tying  the  slips  together,  low- 
ered the  lantern  to  the  prisoner,  and  with- 
out waiting  to  receive  his  thanks,  hurried 
away. 

Thus  aided,  Guy  Fawkes  defended  him- 
self as  well  as  he  could  against  his  loath- 
some assailants.  The  light  showed  that 
the  water  was  swarming  with  them — that 
they  were  creeping  by  hundreds  up  the 
sides  of  the  pit,  and  preparing  to  make  a 
general  attack  upon  him. 

At  one  lime,  Fawkes  determined  not  to 
oppose  them,  but  to  let  them  work  their 
will  upon  him;  but  the  contact  of  the  nox- 
ious animals  made  him  change  his  resolu- 
tion, and  he  instinctively  drove  them  off. 
They  were  not,  however,  to  be  easily  re- 
pulsed, and  returned  to  the  charge  with 
greater  fury  than  before.  The  desire  of 
self-preservation  now  got  the  better  of 
every  other  feeling,  and  the  dread  of  being 
devoured  alive  giving  new  vigour  to  his 
crippled  limbs,  he  rushed  to  the  other  side 
of  the  pit.  His  persecutors,  however,  fol- 
lowed him  in  myriads,  springing  upon 
him,  and  making  their  sharp  teeth  meet  in 
his  flesh  in  a  thousand  places. 

In  this  way  the  contest  continued  for 
some  lime,  Guy  Fawkes  speeding  round 
the  pit,  and  his  assailants  never  for  one 
moment  relaxing  in  the  pursuit,  until  he 
fell  from  exhaustion,  and  his  lantern  being- 
extinguished,  the  whole  host  darted  upon 
him. 

Thinking  all  over,  he  could  not  repress 
a  loud  cry,  and  it  was  scarcely  uttered, 
when  lights  appeared,  and  several  gloomy 
figures  bearing  torches  were  seen  at  the 
edge  of  the  pit.  Among  these  he  distin- 
guished Sir  William  Waad,  who  oflered 
instantly  to  release  him  if  he  would  con- 
fess. 

"I  will  rather  perish,"  replied  Fawkes, 
"  and  I  will  make  no  further  efforts  to  de- 


fend myself.     I  shall  soon  be  out  of  the 
reach  of  your  malice." 

"  This  must  not  be,"  observed  the  lieu- 
tenant to  Jasper  Ipgreve,  who  stood  by. 
"  The  Earl  of  Salisbury  will  never  forgive 
me  if  he  perishes." 

"  Then  not  a  moment  must  be  lost,  or 
those  ravenous  brutes  will  assuredly  de- 
vour him,"  replied  Ipgreve.  "They  are 
so  fierce  that  1  scarcely  like  to  venture 
among  them." 

A  ladder  was  then  let  down  into  the  pit, 
and  the  jailer  and  the  two  officials  de- 
scended. They  were  Justin  lime.  Fawkes 
had  ceased  to  struggle,  and  the  rats  were 
attacking  him  with  such  fury  that  his 
words  would  have  been  speedily  verified, 
but  for  Ipgreve's  timely  interposition. 

On  being  taken  out  of  the  pit,  he  fainted 
from  exhaustion  and  loss  of  blood;  and 
when  he  came  to  himself,  found  he  was 
stretched  upon  a  couch  in  the  torture-cham- 
ber, with  the  chirurgeon  and  .Jasper  Ip- 
greve in  attendance.  Strong  broths,  and 
other  restoratives,  were  then  administered; 
and  his  strength  being  sufficiently  restored 
to  enable  him  to  converse,  the  lieutenant 
again  visited  him,  and  questioning  him  as 
before,  received  a  similar  answer. 

In  the  course  of  that  day  and  the  next, 
he  underwent  at  intervals  various  kinds 
of  torture,  each  more  excruciating  than  the 
preceding,  all  of  which  he  bore  with  un- 
abated fortitude.  Among  other  applica- 
tions, the  rack  was  employed  with  such 
rigour,  that  his  joints  started  from  their 
sockets,  and  his  frame  seemed  torn  asun- 
der. 

On  the  fourth  day,  he  was  removed  to 
another  and  yet  gloomier  chamber,  devoted 
to  the  same  dreadful  objects  as  the  first.  It 
had  an  arch  stone  ceiling,  and  at  the  further 
extremity  yawned  a  deep  recess.  Within 
this  there  was  a  small  furnace,  in  whicli 
fuel  was  placed  ready  to  be  kindled,  and 
over  the  furnace  lay  a  large  black  flag,  at 
either  end  of  which  were  stout  leathern 
straps.  After  being  subjected  to  the  cus- 
tomary interrogations  of  the  lieutenant, 
Fawkes  was  stripped  of  his  attire,  and 
bound  to  the  flag.  The  fire  was  then 
lighted,  and  tiie  stone  gradually  heated. 
The  writhing  frame  of  the  miserable  man 
ere  long  showed  the  extremity  of  his  suf- 
fering, but  as  he  did  not  even  utter  a  groan, 
his  tormentors  were  compelled  to  release 
him. 

On  this  occasion,  there  were  two  per- 
sonages present  who  had  never  attended 
any  previous  interrogation.  They  were 
wrapped  in  large  cloaks,  and  stood  aloof 
during  the  proceedings.  Both  were  treated 
with  the  most  ceremonious  respect  by  Sir 
William  Waad,  who  consulted  them  as  to 
the  extent  to  which  he  should  continue  the 

14* 


156 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


torture.  When  the  prisoner  was  taken  off 
the  heated  stone,  one  of  those  persons  ad- 
vanced towards  him,  and  gazed  curiously 
at  him. 

Fawkes,  upon  whose  brow  thick  drops 
were  standinn^,  and  who  was  sinking  into 
the  oblivion  broujrht  on  by  overwrought 
endurance,  exclaimed,  "It  is  the  King," 
and  fiiinted. 

"  The  traitor  knew  your  Majesty,"  said 
the  lieutenant.  "  But  you  see  it  is  in  vain 
to  attempt  to  extort  anything  from  him." 

"So  it  seems,"  replied  James,  "and  I 
am  greatly  disappointed,  for  I  was  led  to 
believe  that  I  should  hear  a  full  confession 
of  the  conspiracy  from  his  own  lips.  How 
say  you,  good  Master  chirurgeon,  will  he 
endure  further  torture?" 

"  Not  without  danger  of  life,  your  Ma- 
jesty, unless  he  has  some  days'  repose," 
replied  the  chirurgeon,  "even  if  he  can  en- 
dure it  then." 

"It  will  not  be  necessary  to  apply  it 
further,"  replied  Salisbury.  "  I  am  now 
in  full  possession  of  the  names  of  all  the 
principal  conspirators,  and  when  the  pri- 
soner finds  further  concealment  useless,  he 
will  change  his  tone.  To-morrow,  the  com- 
missioners appointed  by  your  Majesty  for 
the  examination  of  all  those  concerned  in 
this  dreadful  project,  will  interrogate  him 
in  the  lieutenant's  lodgings,  and  I  will 
answer  with  my  life  that  the  result  will  be 
satisfactory." 

"Enough,"  said  James.  "It  has  been 
a  painful  spectacle,  which  we  have  just 
witnessed,  and  yet  we  would  not  have 
missed  it.  The  wretch  possesses  undaunt- 
ed resolution,  and  we  can  never  be  suffi- 
ciently grateful  to  the  beneficent  Provi- 
dence that  prevented  him  from  working 
his  ruthless  purpose  upon  us.  The  day 
on  which  we  were  preserved  from  this 
Gunpowder  Treason  shall  ever  hereafter 
be  kept  sacred  in  our  church,  and  thanks 
shall  be  returned  to  Heaven  for  our  won- 
derful deliverance." 

"  Your  INIajesty  will  act  wisely,"  re- 
plied Salisbury.  "The  ordinance  will 
impress  the  nation  with  a  salutary  horror 
of  all  Papists  and  traitors,  for  they  are  one 
and  the  same  thing,  and  keep  alive  a  pro- 
per feeling  of  enmity  against  them.  Such 
a  fearful  example  shall  he  made  of  these 
miscreants  as  shall,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  deter 
all  others  from  following  their  cause.  Not 
only  shall  they  perish  infamously,  hut 
their  names  shall  for  ever  be  held  in  exe- 
cration." 

"  Be  it  so,"  rejoined  James.  "It  is  a 
good  legal  maxim — Crescente  malitid,  cres- 
cere  debuit  et  pana."' 

Upon  this,  he  left  the  chamber,  and, 
traversing  a  number  of  subterranean  pas- 
sages  with   his   attendants,    crossed   the 


drawbridge  near  the  Byward  Tower  to  the 
wharf,  where  his  barge  was  wailing  for 
him,  and  returned  in  it  to  Whitehall. 

At  an  early  hour  in  the  following  day, 
the  commissioners  appointed  to  the  ex- 
amination of  the  prisoner  met  together  in 
a  large  room  on  the  second  floor  of  the 
lieutenant's  lodgings,  afterwards  denomi- 
nated, from  its  use  on  this  occasion,  the 
Council  Chamber.  Aflixed  to  the  walls 
of  this  room  may  be  seen  at  the  present 
day  a  piece  of  marble  sculpture,  with  an 
inscription  commemorative  of  the  event. 
The  commissioners  were  nine  in  number, 
and  included  the  Earls  of  Salisbury,  North- 
ampton, Nottingham,  Suffolk,  Worcester, 
Devon,  Marr,  and  Dunbar,  and  Sir  John 
Popham,  Lord  Chief  Justice.  With  these 
were  associated  Sir  Edward  Coke,  at- 
torney-general, and  Sir  William  Waad. 

The  apartment  in  which  the  examination 
took  place  is  still  a  spacious  one,  but  at 
the  period  in  question  it  was  much  larger 
and  loftier.  The  walls  were  panelled 
with  dark  lustrous  oak,  covered  in  some 
places  with  tapestry,  and  adorned  in  others 
with  paintings.  Over  the  chimney-piece 
hung  a  portrait  of  the  late  sovereign,  Eli- 
zabeth. The  commissioners  were  grouped 
round  a  large  heavily  carved  oak  table, 
and,  after  some  deliberation  together,  it 
was  agreed  that  the  prisoner  should  be 
introduced. 

Sir  William  Waad  then  motioned  to 
Topcliffe,  who  was  in  attendance  with 
half  a  dozen  halberdiers,  and  a  few  mo- 
ments afterwards  a  panel  was  pushed  aside, 
and  Guy  Fawkes  was  brought  through  it. 
He  was  supported  by  Topcliffe  and  Ip- 
greve,  and  it  was  with  the  greatest  diffi- 
culty he  could  drag  himself  along.  So 
severe  had  been  the  sufferings  to  which  he 
had  been  subjected,  that  they  had  done  the 
work  of  time,  and  placed  more  than  twenty 
years  on  his  head.  His  features  were  thin 
and  sharp,  and  of  a  ghastly  whiteness,  and 
his  eyes  hollow  and  bloodshot.  A  large 
cloak  was  thrown  over  him,  which  par- 
tially concealed  his  shattered  frame  and 
crippled  limbs;  but  his  bent  shoulders,  and 
the  difficulty  with  which  he  moved,  told 
how  much  he  had  undergone. 

On  seeing  the  presence  in  which  he 
stood,  a  flush  for  a  moment  rose  to  his 
pallid  cheek,  his  eye  glowed  with  its 
wonted  fire,  and  he  tried  to  stand  erect — 
but  his  limbs  refused  their  office — and  the 
effort  was  so  painful,  that  he  fell  back  into 
the  arms  of  his  attendants.  He  was  thus 
borne  forward  by  them,  and  supported 
during  his  examination.  The  Earl  of 
Salisbury  then  addressed  him,  and  en- 
larging on  the  magnitude  and  horrible 
nature  of  his  treason,  concluded  by  saying 
that  the  only  reparation  he  could  offer  was 


GUY    FAWKES. 


157 


to  disclose  not  only  all  his  own  criminal 
intentions,  but  the  names  of  his  associates. 

"I  will  hide  nothingr  concerning  my- 
self," replied  Fawkes;  "  but  I  shall  be  for 
ever  silent  respectinji-  others." 

The  Earl  then  glanced  at  Sir  Edward 
Coke,  who  proceeded  to  take  down  mi- 
nutes of  the  examination. 

"You  have  hitherto  falsely  represented 
yourself,"  said  the  Earl.  "  What  is  your 
real  name?" 

"  Guy  Fawkes,"  replied  the  prisoner. 

"And  do  you  confess  your  guilt]"  pur- 
sued the  Earl. 

"I  admit  that  it  was  my  intention  to 
blow  up  the  King  and  the  whole  of  the 
lords  spiritual  and  temporal  assembled  in 
the  Parliament  House  with  gunpowder," 
replied  Fawkes. 

"And  you  placed  the  combustibles  in 
the  vault  where  they  were  discovered]" 
demanded  Salisbury. 

The  prisoner  answered  in  the  affirm- 
ative. 

"  You  are  a  papist]"  continued  the  Earl. 

"  I  am  a  member  of  the  Church  of 
Rome,"  returned  Fawkes. 

"  And  you  regard  this  monstrous  design 
as  righteous  and  laudable — as  consistent 
with  the  religion  you  proless,  and  as  likely 
to  uphold  it]"  said  the  earl. 

"I  did  so,"  replied  Fawkes.  "But  I 
am  now  convinced  that  Heaven  did  not 
approve  it,  and  I  lament  that  it  was  ever 
undertaken." 

"Still,  you  refuse  to  make  the  only 
reparation  in  your  power — you  refuse  to 
disclose  your  associates]"  said  Salisbury. 

"  I  cannot  betray  them,"  replied 
Fawkes. 

"  Traitor!  it  is  needless,"  cried  the 
Earl;  "  they  are  known  to  us — nay,  they 
have  betrayed  themselves.  They  have 
risen  in  open  and  armed  rebellion  against 
the  king;  but  a  sufficient  power  has  been 
sent  against  them;  and  if  they  are  not  ere 
this  defeated  and  captured,  many  days 
will  not  elapse  before  they  will  be  lodged 
in  the  Tower." 

"If  this  is  the  case,  you  require  no 
information  from  me,"  rejoined  Fawkes. 
"But  1  pray  you  name  them  to  me." 


"  I  will  do  so,"  replied  Salisbury;  "and 
if  I  have  omitted  any,  you  can  supply  the 
deficiency.  I  will  begin  with  Robert 
Catesby,  the  chief  contriver  of  this  hell- 
engendered  plot — I  will  next  proceed  to 
the  superior  of  the  Jesuits,  Father  Garnet 
— next,  to  another  Jesuit  priest,  Father 
Oldcorne— next,  to  Sir  Everard  Digby — 
then,  to  Thomas  Winter  and  Robert  Win- 
ter— then,  to  John  Wright  and  Christopher 
Wright — then  to  Ambrose  Rookwood, 
Thomas  Percy,  and  John  Grant — and 
lastly,  to  Robert  Keyes." 

"Are  these  all]"  demanded  Fawkes. 

"All  we  are  acquainted  with,"  said 
Salisbury. 

"  Then  add  to  them  the  names  of  Fran- 
cis Tresham,  and  of  his  brother-in-law. 
Lord  Mounteagle,"  rejoined  Fawkes.  "I 
charge  both  with  being  privy  to  the  plot." 

"  1  have  forgotten  another  name,"  said 
Salisbury,  in  some  confusion,  "  that  of 
Viviana  Radcliffe,  of  Ordsall  Hall.  I 
have  received  certain  information  that  she 
was  wedded  to  you  while  you  were  resi- 
dent at  White  Webbs,  near  Epping  Fo- 
rest, and  was  cognisant  of  the  plot.  If 
captured,  she  will  share  your  fate." 

Fawkes  could  not  repress  a  groan. 

Salisbury  pursued  his  interrogations, 
but  it  was  evident,  from  the  increasing 
feebleness  of  the  prisoner,  that  he  would 
sink  under  it  if  the  examination  was  fur- 
ther protracted.  He  was  therefore  ordered 
to  attach  his  signature  to  the  minutes 
taken  by  Sir  Edward  Coke,  and  was 
placed  in  a  chair  for  that  purpose.  A  pen 
was  then  given  him,  but  for  some  time  his 
shattered  fingers  refused  to  grasp  it.  By 
a  great  effort,  and  with  acute  pain,  he 
succeeded  in  tracing  his  Christian  name 
thus: — 


^^^^ 


While  endeavouring  to  write  his  surname, 
the  pen  fell  from  his  hand,  and  he  became 
insensible. 


CHAPTER   II. 

SHOWING  THE  TROUBLES  OF  VIVIANA. 

On  coming  to  herself,  Viviana  inquired  |  "If  you  come  to  me  for  consolation, 
for  Garnet,  and  being  told  th  it  he  was  in  daughter,"  he  said,  "you  come  to  one 
his  chamber  alone,  she  repaired  thither,  who  cannot  offer  it.  I  am  completely 
and  found  him  pacing  to  and  fro  in  the  prostrated  in  spirit  by  the  disastrous  issue 
greatest  perturbation.  '  of  our  enterprise;  and  though  I  tried  to 


158 


GUY     FAVVKES. 


prepare  myself  for  what  has  taken  place, 
I  now  find  myself  utterly  unable  to  cope 
with  lu" 

"If  such  is  your  condition,  father," 
replied  Viviana,  "what  must  be  that  of 
my  husband,  upon  whose  devoted  head 
all  the  wei<rht  of  this  dreadful  calamity 
now  falls?  You  are  still  at  liberty— still 
able  to  save  yourself — still  able,  at  least, 
to  resist  unto  the  death,  if  you  are  so 
minded.  But  he  is  a  captive  in  the  Tow- 
er, exposed  to  every  torment  that  human 
ingenuity  can  invent,  and  with  nothing 
but  the  prospect  of  a  lingering  death  be- 
fore his  eyes.  What  is  your  condition, 
compared  with  hisl" 

'•  Happy— most  happy,  daughter,"  re- 
plied Garnet,  "and  1  have  been  selfish 
and  unreasonable.  I  have  given  way  to 
the  weakness  of  humanity,  and  I  thank 
you  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  for  ena- 
bling me  to  shake  it  off." 

"You  have  indulged  false  hopes,  fa- 
ther," said  Viviana,  "whereas  1  have 
indulged  none,  or  rather  all  has  come  to 
pass  as  I  desired.  The  dreadful  crime 
with  which  I  feared  my  husband's  soul 
would  have  been  loaded,  is  now  uncom- 
mitted, and  I  have  firm  hope  of  his  salva- 
tion. If  I  might  counsel  you,  I  would 
advise  you  to  surrender  yourself  to  justice, 
and  by  pouring  out  your  blood  on  the  scaf- 
fold, wash  out  your  offence.  Such  will 
be  my  own  course.  I  have  been  involun- 
tarily led  into  connection  with  this  plot; 
and  though  I  have  ever  disapproved  of  it, 
since  I  have  not  revealed  it,  1  am  as  guilty 
as  if  1  had  been  its  contriver.  I  shall  not 
shun  my  punishment.  Fate  has  dealt 
hardly  with  me,  and  my  path  on  earth  has 
been  strewn  with  thorns,  and  cast  in  grief 
and  trouble.  But  I  humbly  trust  that  my 
portion  hereafter  will  be  with  the  blessed." 

"  I  cannot  doubt  it,  daughter,"  replied 
Garnet;  "and  though  1  do  not  view  our 
design  in  the  light  that  you  do,  but  regard 
it  as  justifiable,  if  not  necessary,  yet  with 
your  feelings,  1  cannot  sufficiently  admire 
your  conduct.  Y'our  devotion  and  self- 
sacrifice  is  wholly  without  parallel.  At 
the  same  time,  I  would  try  to  dissuade 
you  from  surrendering  yourself  to  our 
relentless  enemies.  Believe  me,  it  will 
add  the  severest  pang  to  your  husband's 
torture  to  know  that  you  are  in  their  pow- 
er. His  nature  is  stern  and  unyielding, 
and,  persuaded  as  he  is  of  the  justice  of 
his  cause,  lie  will  die  happy  in  that  con- 
viction, certain  that  his  name,  though 
despised  by  our  heretical  persecutors,  will 
be  held  in  reverence  by  all  true  professors 
of  our  faith.  No,  daughter,  fly  and  con- 
ceal yourself  till  pursuit  is  relinquished, 
and  pass  the  rest  of  your  life  in  prayer  for 
the  repose  of  your  husband's  soul." 


"I  will  pass  it  in  endeavouring  to  bring 
him  to  repentance,"  replied  V^iviana. 
"The  sole  boon  I  shall  seek  from  my 
judges  will  be  permission  to  attempt  this." 

"It  will  be  refused,  daughter,"  replied 
Garnet,  "and  you  will  only  destroy  your- 
self, not  aid  him.  Rest  satisfied  that  the 
Great  Power  who  judges  the  hearts  of 
men,  and  implants  certain  impulses  within 
them,  for  his  own  wise  but  inscrutable 
purposes,  well  knows  that  Guy  Fawkes, 
however  culpable  his  conduct  may  appear 
in  your  eyes,  acted  according  to  the  dic- 
tates of  his  conscience,  and  in  the  full 
confidence  that  the  design  would  restore 
the  true  worship  of  God  in  this  kingdom. 
The  failure  of  the  enterprise  proves  that 
he  was  mistaken — that  we  were  all  mis- 
taken— and  that  Heaven  was  unfavourable 
to  the  means  adopted — but  it  does  not 
prove  his  insincerity." 

"These  arguments  have  no  weight  with 
me,  father,"  replied  Viviana;  "  1  will 
leave  nothing  undone  to  save  his  soul,  and 
whatever  may  be  the  result,  I  will  surren- 
der myself  to  justice." 

"  I  shall  not  seek  to  move  you  from 
your  purpose,  daughter,"  replied  Garnet, 
"and  can  only  lament  it.  Before,  how- 
ever, you  finally  decide,  let  us  pray  toge- 
ther for  directions  from  on  high." 

Thus  exhorted,  Viviana  knelt  down 
with  the  priest  before  a  small  silver 
image  of  the  Virgin,  which  stood  in  a 
niche  in  the  wall,  and  they  both  prayed 
long  and  earnestly.  Garnet  was  the  first 
to  conclude  his  devotions,  and  as  he  gazed 
at  the  upturned  countenance  and  streaming 
eyes  of  his  companion,  his  heart  was  filled 
with  admiration  and  pity. 

At  this  juncture  the  door  opened,  and 
Catesby  and  Sir  Everard  Digby  entered. 
On  hearing  them,  Viviana  immediately 
arose. 

"The  urgency  of  our  business  must 
plead  an  excuse,  for  the  interruption,  if 
any  is  needed,"  said  Catesby;  "  but  do 
not  retire,  madam.  We  have  no  secrets 
from  you  now.  Sir  Everard  and  I  have 
fully  completed  our  preparations,"  he 
added  to  Garnet.  "  Our  men  are  all 
armed  and  mounted  in  the  court,  and  are 
in  high  spirits  for  the  enterprise.  As  the 
service,  however,  will  be  one  of  the  great- 
est danger  and  difficulty,  you  had  better 
seek  a  safe  asylum,  father,  till  the  first 
decisive  blow  is  struck." 

"  I  would  go  with  you,  my  son,"  rejoin- 
ed Garnet,  "if  did  not  think  my  presence 
might  be  a  hindrance.  I  can  only  aid  you 
with  my  prayers,  and  those  can  be  more 
efficaciously  uttered  in  some  secure  retreat, 
than  during  a  rapid  march,  or  dangerous 
encounter." 

"  You   had  better  retire  to  Cough  ton 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


159 


with  Lady  Digby  and  Viviana,"  said  Sir 
Everard.  "I  have  provided  a  sufficient 
escort  to  guard  you  tliilher, — and,  as  you 
are  aware,  there  are  many  hiding-places  in 
the  house,  where  you  can  remain  undis- 
covered, in  case  of  search." 

"I  place  myself  at  your  disposal,"  re- 
plied Garnet.  "  But  Viviana  is  resolved 
to  surrender  herself." 

"This  must  not  he,"  returned  Catesby. 
"Such  an  act  at  this  juncture  would  be 
madness,  and  would  materially  injure  our 
cause.  Whatever  your  inclinations  may 
prompt,  you  must  consent  to  remain  in 
safety,  madam." 

"I  have  acquiesced  in  your  proceedings 
thus  far,"  replied  Viviana,  "  because  1 
could  not  oppose  them  without  injury  to 
those  dear  to  me.  But  I  will  take  no 
further  share  in  them.  My  mind  is  made 
up  as  to  the  course  I  shall  pursue." 

"  Since  you  are  bent  upon  your  own 
destruction — for  it  is  nothing  less, — it  is 
the  duty  of  your  friends  to  save  you," 
rejoined  Catesby.  "  You  sliall  not  do 
what  you  propose,  and  when  yoa  are  your- 
self again,  and  have  recovered  from  the 
shock  your  feelings  have  sustained,  you 
will  thank  me  for  my  interference." 

"You  are  right,  Catesby,"  observed  Sir 
Everard;  "it  would  be  worse  than  insa- 
nity to  allow  her  to  destroy  herself  thus." 

"  T  am  glad  you  are  of  this  opinion," 
said  Garnet.  "  I  tried  to  reason  her  out 
of  her  design,  but  without  avail." 

"  Catesby,"  cried  Viviana,  throwingJier- 
self  athis  feet,  "by  the  love  you  onc^Aro- 
fessed  for  me, — by  the  friendship  yoWen- 
tertained  for  him  who  unhesitatingly  offered 
himself  for  you,  and  your  cause,  I  implore 
you  not  to  oppose  me  now  !" 

"  I  shall  best  serve  you,  and  most  act  in 
accordance  with  the  wishes  of  my  friend, 
by  doing  so,"  replied  Catesby.  "There- 
fore you  plead  in  vain." 

"  Alas!"  cried  Viviana.  "  My  purposes 
are  ever  thwarted.  You  will  have  to  an- 
swer for  my  life." 

"I  should,  indeed,  have  it  to  answer  for, 
if  I  permitted  you  to  act  as  you  desire," 
rejoined  Catesby.  "  I  repeat  you  will 
thank  me  ere  many  days  are  passed." 

"Sir  Everard,"  exclaimed  Viviana,  ap- 
pealing to  the  knight,  ."I  entreat  you  to 
have  pity  upon  me." 

"  I  do  sincerely  sympathize  with  your 
distress,"  replied  Digby,  in  a  tone  of  the 
deepest  commiseration;  "but  I  am  sure 
what  Catesby  advises  is  for  the  best.  I 
could  not  reconcile  it  to  my  conscience  to 
allow  you  to  sacrifice  yourself  thus.  Be 
governed  by  prudence." 


"  Oh  no, — no  !"  cried  Viviana,  distract- 
edly. "  I  will  not  be  stayed.  1  command 
you  not  to  detain  me." 

"  Viviana,"  said  Catesby,  taking  her 
arm,  "  this  is  no  season  for  the  display  of 
silly  weakness  either  on  our  part  or  yours. 
If  you  cannot  control  yourself,  you  must 
be  controlled.  Father  Garnet,  I  entrust 
her  to  your  care.  Two  of  my  troop  shall 
attend  you,  together  with  your  own  ser- 
vant, Nicholas  Owen.  You  shall  have 
stout  horses,  able  to  accomplish  the  jour- 
ney with  the  greatest  expedition,  and  I 
should  wish  you  to  convey  her  to  her  own 
mansion,  Ordsall  Hall,  and  to  remain  there 
with  her  till  you  hear  tidings  of  us," 

"  It  shall  be  as  you  direct,  my  son," 
said  Garnet,  "  I  am  prepared  to  set  out  at 
once." 

"  That  is  well,"  replied  Catesby, 

"  You  will  not  do  me  this  violence,  sir," 
cried  Viviana.  "  I  appeal  against  it,  to 
you.  Sir  Everard." 

"  I  cannot  help  you,  madam,"  replied 
the  knight,  "  indrtd,  I  cannot." 

"Then  HeJ^ven,  I  trust,  will  help  me," 
cried  Viviana,  "  for  I  am  wholly  abandoned 
of  man." 

"I  besreech  you,  madam,  put  some  con- 
straint upon  yourself,"  said  Catesby.  "  If, 
after  your  arrival  at  Ordsall,  you  are  still 
bent  upon  your  rash  and  fatal  design. 
Father  Garnet  shall  not  oppose  its  execu- 
tion. But  give  yourself  time  for  reflec- 
tion." 

"  Since  it  may  not  be  otherwise,  I 
assent,"  replied  Viviana.  "  If  I  must  go, 
I  will  start  at  once." 

"  Wisely  resolved,"  replied  Sir  Everard. 

Viviana  then  retired,  and  soon  after- 
wards appeared  equipped  for  her  journey. 
The  two  attendants  and  Nicholas  Owen 
were  in  the  court-yard,  and  Catesby  as- 
sisted her  into  the  saddle. 

"  Do  not  lose  sight  of  her."  he  said  to 
Garnet,  as  the  latter  mounted. 

"  Rest  assured  1  will  not,"  replied  the 
other. 

And  taking  the  direction  to  Coventry, 
the  party  rode  off  at  a  brisk  pace. 

Catesby  then  joined  the  other  conspira- 
tors, while  Sir  Everard  sent  off  Lady  Digby 
and  his  household,  altendcul  by  a  strong 
escort,  to  Ccughton.  Tiiis  done,  the 
whole  party  repaired  to  the  court-yard, 
where  they  called  over  the  muster-roll  of 
their  men,  to  acertain  that  none  were  miss- 
ing,— examined  their  arms  and  ammunition 
—and  finding  all  in  order,  sprang  to  their 
steeds,  and  putting  tiiemselves  at  the  head 
of  the  band,  rode  towards  Southam  and 
Warwick. 


160 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


CHAPTER   III. 


IIUDDINGTON, 


About  six  o'clock  in  tho  morningr  the 
conspirators  reached  Leamington  Priors, 
at  that  time  an  inconsiderable  village,  and 
having  ridden  nearly  twenty  miles  over 
heavy  and  miry  roads,  for  a  good  deal  of 
rain  had  fallen  in  the  night,  they  stood  in 
need  of  some  refreshment.  Accordingly, 
they  entered  the  first  farm-yard  they  came 
to,  and  proceeding  to  the  cow-houses  and 
sheepfolds,  turned  out  the  animals  within 
them,  and  fastening  up  their  own  steeds  in 
their  places,  set  before  them  whatever 
provender  they  could  find.  Those,  and 
they  were  by  far  the  greater  number,  who 
could  not  find  better  accommodation,  fed 
their  horses  in  the  yard,  which  was  strewn 
with  trusses  of  hay,  and  great  heaps  of 
corn.  The  whole  scene  formed  a  curious 
picture.  Here  was  one  party  driving  away 
the  sheep  and  cattle  which  were  bleating 
and  lowing — there,  another  rifling  a  hen- 
roost, and  slaughtering  its  cackling  in- 
mates. On  this  hand,  by  the  direction  of 
Catesby,  two  stout  horses  were  being 
harnessed  with  ropes  to  a  cart,  which  he 
intended  to  use  as  a  baggage-wagon:  on 
that.  Sir  Everard  Digby  was  interposing 
his  authority  to  prevent  the  destruction  of 
a  fine  porker. 

Their  horses  fed,  the  next  care  of  the 
conspirators  was  to  obtain  something  for 
themselves,  and,  ordering  the  master  of 
the  house,  who  was  terrified  almost  out  of 
his  senses,  to  open  his  doors,  they  entered 
the  dwelling,  and  causing  afire  to  be  lighted 
in  the  chief  room,  began  to  boil  a  large 
kettle  of  broth  upon  it,  and  to  cook  other 
provisions.  Finding  a  good  store  of  eata- 
bles in  the  larder,  rations  were  served  out 
to  the  band.  Two  casks  of  strong  ale  were 
likewise  broached,  and  their  contents  dis- 
tributed; and  a  small  keg  of  strong  waters 
being  also  discovered,  it  was  disposed  of 
in  the  same  way. 

This,  however,  was  the  extent  of  the 
mischief  done.  All  the  conspirators,  but 
chiefly  Catesby  and  Sir  Everard  Digby, 
dispersed  themselves  amongst  the  band, 
and  checked  any  disposition  to  plunder. 
The  only  articles  taken  away  from  the 
house  were  a  couple  of  old  rusty  swords 
and  a  caliver.  Catesby  proposed  to  the 
farmer  to  join  their  expedition.  But  hav- 
ing now  regained  his  courage,  the  sturdy 
churl  obstinately  refused  to  stir  a  foot  with 
them,  and  even  ventured  to  utter  a  wish 
that  the  enterprise  might  fail. 

"I  am  a  good  Protestant,  and  a  faithful 


subject  of  King  James,  and  will  never  abet 
Popery  and  treason,"  he  said. 

This  bold  sally  would  have  been  answer- 
ed by  a  bullet  from  one  of  the  troopers  if 
Catesby  had  not  interfered. 

"You  shall  do  as  you  please,  friend," 
he  said,  in  a  conciliatory  tone.  "  We  will 
not  compel  any  man  to  act  against  his  con- 
science, and  we  claim  the  same  right  our- 
selves. Will  you  join  us,  good  fellows'?" 
he  added  to  two  farming  men,  who  were 
standing  near  their  master. 

"  Must  I  confess  to  a  priest]"  asked  one 
of  thorn. 

"  Certainly  not,"  replied  Catesby.  "Yon 
shall  have  no  constraint  whatever  put  upon 
you.  All  I  require  is  obedience  to  my 
commands  in  the  field." 

"  Then  I  am  with  you,"  replied  the  fel- 
low. 

"Thou'rt  a  traitor  and  rebel,  Sam  Mor- 
rell,"  cried  the  other  hind,  "and  wilt  come 
to  a  traitor's  end.  I  will  never  fight  against 
King  .Tames.  And  if  I  must  take  up  e^rms, 
it  shall  be  against  his  enemies,  and  in  de- 
fence of  our  religion.  No  priests — no 
papistry  for  me." 

"  W'ell  said,  Hugh,"  cried  his  master, 
"  ^^'|'11  die  in  that  cause,  if  need  be." 

C^esby  turned  angrily  away,  and  giv- 
ing lire  word  to  his  men  to  prepare  to  set 
forth,  in  a  few  minutes  all  were  in  the 
saddle;  but  on  inquiring  for  the  new  re- 
cruit, Sam  IMorrell,  it  was  found  he  had 
disappeared.  The  cart  was  laden  with 
arms,  ammunition,  and  a  few  sacks  of 
corn,  and  the  line  being  formed,  they  com- 
menced their  march. 

The  morning  was  dark  and  misty,  and 
all  looked  dull  and  dispiriting.  The  con- 
spirators, however,  were  full  of  confidence, 
and  their  men,  exhilarated  and  refreshed 
by  their  meal,  appeared  anxious  for  an  op- 
portunity of  distinguishing  themselves. 
Arrived  within  half  a  mile  of  Warwick, 
whence  the  lofty  spire  of  the  church  of 
Saint  Nicholas,  the  tower  of  Saint  Mary's, 
and  the  ancient  gates  of  this  beautiful  old 
town  could  just  be  discerned  through  the 
mist,  a  short  consultation  was  held  by  the 
rebel  leaders  as  to  the  expediency  of  at- 
tacking the  castle,  and  carrying  oflf  the 
horses  with  which  they  had  learnt  its 
stables  were  filled. 

Deciding  upon  making  the  attempt,  their 
resolution  was  communicated  to  their  fol- 
lowers, and  received  with  loud  acclama- 
tions.    Catesby  then  put  himself  at  the 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


161 


head  of  the  band,  and  they  all  rode  for- 
ward at  a  brisk  pace.  Crossing  the  bridjre 
over  the  Avon,  whence  the  castle  burst 
upon  them  in  all  its  g-randeur  and  beauty, 
Catesby  dashed  forward  to  an  embattled 
gate  commanding  the  approach  to  the 
structure,  and  knocking  furiously  against 
it,  a  wicket  was  opened  by  an  old  porter, 
who  started  back  on  beholding  the  intru- 
ders. He  would  have  closed  the  wicket, 
but  Catesby  was  too  quick  for  him,  and 
springing  from,  his  steed,  dashed  aside  the 
feeble  opposition  of  the  old  man,  and  un- 
barred the  gate.  Instantly  mounting  again, 
he  galloped  along  a  broad  and  winding 
path  cut  so  deeply  in  the  rock,  that  the 
mighty  pile  they  were  approaching  was 
completely  hidden  from  view.  A  few 
seconds,  however,  brought  them  to  a  point, 
from  which  its  three  towers  reared  them- 
selves full  before  them.  Another  moment 
brought  them  to  the  edge  of  the  moat,  at 
this  time  crossed  by  a  stone  bridge,  but 
then  filled  with  water,  and  defended  by  a 
drawbridge. 

As  no  attack  like  the  present  was  appre- 
hended, and  as  the  owner  of  the  castle,  the 
celebrated  Fulke  Greville,  afterwards  Lord 
Brooke,  to  whom  it  had  been  recently 
granted  by  the  reigning  monarch,  was  then 
in  the  capital,  the  drawbridge  was  down, 
and  though  several  retainers  rushed  forth 
on  hearing  the  approach  of  so  many  horse- 
men, they  were  loo  late  to  raise  it.  Threat- 
ening these  persons  with  destruction  if 
any  resistance  was  offered,  Catesby  passed 
through  the  great  entrance,  and  rodeiinto 
the  court,  where  he  drew  up  his  ban  J. 

By  this  time,  the  whole  of  the  inmates 
of  the  castle  had  collected  on  the  ramparts, 
armed  with  calivers  and  partisans,  and 
whatever  weapons  they  could  find,  and 
though  their  force  was  utterly  dispropor- 
tioned  to  that  of  their  opponents,  they 
seemed  disposed  to  give  them  battle. 
Paying  no  attention  to  them,  Catesby 
proceeded  to  the  stables,  where  he  found 
upwards  of  twenty  horses,  which  he  ex- 
changed for  the  worst  and  most  jaded  of 
his  own,  and  was  about  to  enter  the  castle 
in  search  of  arms,  when  he  was  startled 
by  hearing  the  alarm-bell  rung.  This  was 
succeeded  by  the  discharge  of  a  culverin 
on  the  summit  of  the  tower,  named  after 
the  redoubted  Guy,  Earl  of  Warwick;  and 
though  the  bell  was  instantly  silenced, 
Rookwood,  who  had  dislodged  the  party 
from  the  ramparts,  brought  word  that  the 
inhabitants  of  Warwick  were  assembling, 
that  drums  were  beating  at  the  gates,  and 
that  an  attack  might  be  speedily  expected. 
Not  desiring  to  hazard  an  eng>.gement  at 
this  juncture,  Catesby  gave  up  the  idea  of 
ransacking  the  castle,  and  ordered  his  men 
to  their  horses. 


Some  delay,  however,  occurred  before 
they  could  all  be  got  togellier,  and,  mean- 
while, the  ringing  of  bells  and  other  alarm- 
ing sounds  continued.  At  one  time,  it 
occurred  to  Catesby  to  attempt  to  maintain 
possession  of  the  castle;  but  this  design 
was  overruled  by  the  other  conspirators, 
who  represented  to  him  the  impractica- 
bility of  the  design.  At  length,  the  whole 
troop  being  assembled,  they  crossed  the 
drawbridge,  and  speeded  along  the  rocky 
path.  Before  the  outer  gate  they  found 
a  large  body  of  men,  some  on  horseback, 
and  some  on  foot,  drawn  up.  These  per- 
sons, however,  struck  with  terror  at  their 
appearance,  retreated,  and  allowed  them  a 
free  passage. 

On  turning  to  cross  the  bridge,  they  . 
found  it  occupied  by  a  strong  and  well- 
armed  body  of  men,  headed  by  the  sheriff 
of  Warwickshire,  who  showed  no  disposi- 
tion to  give  way.  While  the  rebel  party 
were  preparing  to  force  a  passage,  a  trum- 
pet was  sounded,  and  the  sheriff,  riding 
towards  them,  commanded  them  in  the 
king's  name  to  yield  themselves  prisoners. 

"  We  do  not  acknowledge  the  supre- 
macy of  James  Stuart,  whom  you  call 
king,"  rejoined  Catesby,  sternly.  "We 
fight  for  our  liberties,  and  for  the  restora- 
tion of  the  holy  Catholic  religion  which 
we  profess.  Do  not  oppose  us,  or  you 
will  have  cause  to  rue  your  temerity." 

"  Hear  me,"  cried  the  sheriff,  turning 
from  him  to  his  men;  "I  promise  you  all 
a  free  pardon  in  the  King's  name,  if  you 
will  throw  down  your  arms,  and  deliver 
up  your  leaders.  But,  if  after  this  warn- 
ing, you  continue  in  open  rebellion  against 
your  sovereign,  you  will  all  suffer  the  vilest 
death." 

"Rejoin  your  men,  sir,"  said  Catesby, 
in  a  significant  tone,  and  drawing  a  pe- 
tronel. 

"A  free  pardon  and  a  hundred  pounds 
to  him  who  will  bring  me  the  head  of 
Robert  Catesby,"  said  the  sheriff,  disre- 
garding the  menace. 

"  Your  own  is  not  worth  half  the  sum," 
rejoined  Catesby;  and  levelling  the  petro- 
nel,  he  shot  him  dead. 

The  sheriff's  fall  was  the  signal  for  a 
general  engageincnt.  Exasperated  by  the 
death  of  their  leader,  the  royalist  party 
assailed  the  rebels  with  tlie  greatest  fury, 
and  as  the  latter  were  attacked  at  the  same 
time  in  the  rear,  their  situation  began  to 
appear  perilous.  But  nothing  could  with- 
stand the  vigour  and  determination  of 
Catesby.  Cheering  on  his  men,  ho  soon 
cut  a  way  across  the  bridge,  and  would 
have  made  good  his  retreat,  if  he  had  not 
perceived,  to  his  infinite  dismay,  tiiat 
Percy  and  Rookwood  had  been  captured. 

Regardless  of  any  risk  he  might  run,  he 


16S 


GUY    FAWKES. 


shouted  to  those  near  to  follow  him,  and 
made  such  a  desperate  charge  upon  the 
royalists  that  in  a  few  minutes  he  was  by 
the  side  of  his  friends,  and  had  liberated 
them.  In  trying,  however,  to  follow  up 
his  advantage  he  got  separated  from  his 
companions,  and  was  so  hotly  pressed  on 
all  sides,  that  his  destruction  seemed  in- 
evitable. His  petronels  had  both  brought 
down  their  mark;  and  in  striking  a  blow 
against  a  stalwart  trooper,  his  sword  had 
sliivered  close  to  the  handle.  In  this  de- 
fenceless state  his  enemies  made  sure  of 
him,  but  they  miscalculated  his  resources. 

He  was  then  close  to  the  side  of  the 
bridge,  and  before  his  purpose  could  be 
divined,  struck  spurs  deeply  into  his  horse, 
and  cleared  the  parapet  with  a  single 
bound.  A  shout  of  astonishment  and  ad- 
miration arose  alike  from  friend  and  foe, 
and  there  was  a  general  rush  towards  the 
side  of  the  bridge.  The  noble  animal  that 
had  borne  him  out  of  danger  was  seen 
swimming  towards  the  bank,  and,  though 
several  shots  were  fired  at  him,  he  reached 
it  in  safety.  This  gallant  action  so  raised 
Catesby  in  the  estimation  of  his  followers, 
that  they  welcomed  him  with  the  utmost 
enthusiasm,  and  rallying  round  him,  fought 
with  such  vigour,  that  they  drove  their 
opponents  over  the  bridge,  and  compelled 
them  to  flee  towards  the  town. 

Catesby  now  mustered  his  men,  and 
finding  his  loss  slighter  than  he  expected, 
though  several  were  so  severely  wounded, 
that  he  was  compelled  to  leave  them  be- 
hind, rode  off  at  a  quick  pace.  At^er  pro- 
ceeding for  about  four  miles  along  the 
Stratford  Road,  they  turned  off  on  the  right 
into  a  narrow  lane  leading  t9  Snitterfield, 
with  the  intention  of  visiting  Norbrook, 
the  family  residence  of  John  Grant.  On 
arriving  there,  they  put  the  house  into  a 
state  of  defence,  and  then  assembled  in 
the  hall,  while  their  followers  recruited 
themselves  in  the  court-yard. 

"  So  far  well,"  observed  Cateshy,  fling- 
ing himself  into  a  chair;  "  the  first  battle 
has  been  won." 

"True,"  replied  Grant;  "but  it  will 
not  do  to  tarry  here  long.  This  house 
cannot  hold  out  against  a  prolonged  at- 
tack." 

"  We  will  not  remain  here  more  than  a 
couple  of  hours,"  replied  Catesby:  "  but 
■where  shall  we  go  next]  I  am  for  making 
some  desperate  attempt,  which  shall  strike 
terror  into  our  foes." 

"  Are  we  strong  enough  to  march  to  the 
Earl  of  Harrington's  mansion  near  Coven- 
try, and  carry  off  the  Princess  Elizabeth]" 
asked  Percy. 

"  She  were  indeed  a  glorious  prize," 
replied  Catesby;  "  but  I  have  no  doubt  on 
the  first  alarm  of  our  rising  she  has  been 


conveyed  to  a  place  of  safety.  And  even 
if  she  were  there,  we  should  have  the 
whole  armed  force  of  Coventry  to  contend 
with.  No — no,  it  will  not  do  to  attempt 
that." 

"  Nothing  venture,  nothing  have!"  cried 
Sir  Everard  Digby.  "  We  ought,  in  my 
opinion,  to  run  any  risk  to  secure  her." 

"  You  know  me  too  well,  Digby,"  re- 
joined Catesby,  "to  doubt  my  readiness 
to  undertake  any  project,  however  hazard- 
ous, which  would  otTer  the  remotest  chance 
of  success.  But  in  this  I  see  none,  unless, 
indeed,  it  could  be  accomplished  by  strata- 
gem. Let  us  first  ascertain  what  support 
we  can  obtain,  and  then  decide  upon  the 
measures  to  be  adopted." 

"I  am  content,"  returned  Digby. 

"  Old  Mr.  Talbot  of  Grafton  is  a  friend 
of  yours,  is  he  not]"  continued  Catesbv 
addressing  Thomas  Winter.  "  Can  you 
induce  him  to  join  us]" 

"  I  will  try,"  replied  Thomas  Winter; 
"but  I  have  some  misgivings." 

"Be  not  faint-hearted,"  rejoined  Cates- 
by. "  You  and  Stephen  Littleton  shall 
go  to  him  at  once,  and  join  us  at  your  own 
mansion  of  Huddington,  whither  we  will 
proceed  as  soon  as  our  men  are  thoroughly 
recruited.  Use  every  argument  you  can 
devise  with  Talbot — tell  him  that  the  wel- 
fare of  the  Catholic  cause  depends  on  our 
success— and  that  neither  his  years  nor 
infirmities  can  excuse  his  absence  at  this 
juncture.  If  he  will  not,  or  cannot  come 
himself,  cause  him  to  write  letters  to  all 
his  Catholic  neishbours,  urging  them  to 
join  i^s,  and  bid  him  send  all  his  retainers 
and  servants  to  us." 

"  I  will  not  neglect  a  single  plea,"  re- 
plied Thomas  Winter,  "and  I  will  further 
urge  compliance  by  his  long  friendship 
towards  myself.  But,  as  I  have  just  said, 
I  despair  of  success." 

Soon  after  this,  he  and  Stephen  Little- 
ton, with  two  of  the  troopers  well-mounted 
and  well-armed,  rode  across  the  country 
through  lanes  and  by-roads,  with  which 
they  were  well  acquainted,  to  Grafton. 
At  the  same  time,  Catesby  repaired  to  the 
court-yard,  and  assembling  his  men,  found 
there  were  twenty-five  missing.  More 
than  half  of  these  it  was  known  had  been 
killed  or  wounded  at  Warwick;  but  the 
rest,  it  was  suspected,  had  deserted. 

Whatever  effect  this  scrutiny  might 
secretly  have  upon  Catesby,  he  main- 
tained a  cheerful  and  confident  demeanour, 
and  mounting  a  flight  of  steps,  harangued 
the  band  in  energetic  and  exciting  terms. 
Displaying  a  small  image  of  the  Virgin  to 
them,  he  assured  them  they  were  under 
tiie  special  protection  of  heaven,  whose 
cause  they  were  fighting — and  concluded 
by  reciting  a  prayer,  in  which  the  whole 


GUY    FAWKES. 


]63 


assemblafre  heartily  joined.  This  done, 
they  filled  the  bagojaore-cart  with  provi- 
sions and  further  ammunition,  and  formintr 
themselves  into  good  order,  took  the  road 
to  Alcester. 

They  had  not  gone  far,  when  torrents  of 
rain  fell,  and  the  roads  being  in  a  shock- 
ing condition,  and  ploughed  up  with  ruts, 
they  turned  into  the  fields  whenever  it  was 
practicable,  and  continued  their  march  very 
slowly,  and  under  excessively  dishearten- 
ing circumstances.  On  arriving  at  the 
ford  across  the  Avon,  near  Bishopston, 
they  found  the  stream  so  swollen  that  it 
was  impossible  to  get  across  it.  Sir  Eve- 
rard  Digby,  who  made  the  attempt,  was 
nearly  carried  off  by  tbe  current.  They 
were  therefore  compelled  to  proceed  to 
Stratford,  and  cross  the  bridge. 

"  My  friends,"  said  Catesby,  command- 
ing a  halt  at  a  short  distance  of  the  town, 
"I  know  not  what  reception  we  may  meet 
with  here.  Probably  much  the  same  as 
at  Warwick.  But  I  command  you  not  to 
strike  a  blow,  except  in  self-defence." 

Those  injunctions  given,  attended  by 
the  other  conspirators,  except  Percy  and 
Rookwood,  who  brought  up  the  rear,  he 
rode  slowly  into  Stratford,  and  proceeding 
to  the  market-place,  ordered  a  trumpet  to 
be  sounded.  On  the  first  appearance  of 
the  troop,  most  of  the  inhabitants  fled  to 
their  houses,  and  fastened  the  doors,  but 
some  few  courageous  persons  followed 
them  at  a  wary  distance.  These  were 
harangued  at  some  length  by  Catesby^, 
who  called  upon  them  to  join  the  expedi- 
tion, and  held  out  promises,  which  only 
excited  the  derision  of  the  hearers. 

Indeed,  the  dejected  looks  of  most  of 
the  band,  and  the  drenched  and  muddy 
state  of  their  apparel  made  them  objects 
of  pity  and  contempt,  rather  than  of  seri- 
ous apprehension;  and  nothing  but  their 
numbers  prevented  an  attack  being  made 
upon  them.  Catesby's  address  concluded 
amid  groans  of  dissatisfaction,  and  finding 
he  was  wasting  time,  and  injuring  his 
own  cause,  he  gave  the  word  to  march, 
and  moved  slowly  through  the  main  street, 
but  not  a  single  recruit  joined  him. 

Another  unpropitious  circumstance  oc- 
curred just  as  they  were  leaving  Stratford. 
Two  or  three  of  his  followers  tried  to  slink 
away,  when  Catesby  riding  after  them, 
called  to  them  to  return,  and  no  attention 
being  paid  to  his  orders,  he  shot  the  man 
nearest  him,  and  compelled  the  others,  by 
threats  of  the  same  punishment,  to  return 
to  their  ranks.  This  occurrence,  while  it 
occasioned  much  discontent  and  ill-will 
among  the  band,  gave  great  uneasiness  to 
their  leaders.  Catesby  and  Percy  now 
brought   up    the   rear,   and   kept  a  sharp 

15 


look-out  to  check  any  further  attempt  at 
desertion. 

Digby  aud  Winter,  being  well  acquaint- 
ed with  all  the  Catholic  gentry  in  the 
neighbourhood,  they  proceeded  to  their 
different  residences,  and  were  uniformly 
coldly  received,  and  in  some  cases  dis- 
missed with  reproaches  and  menaces.  In 
spite  of  all  their  efforts,  too,  repeated  deser- 
tions took  place,  and  long  before  they  reach- 
ed Alcester,  their  force  was  diminished  by 
a  dozen  men.  Not  thinking  it  prudent  to 
pass  through  the  town,  they  struck  into  a 
lane  on  the  right,  and  fording  the  Arrow 
near  Ragley,  skirted  that  extensive  park, 
and  crossing  the  hills  near  Weethly  and 
Stoney  Moreton,  arrived  in  about  an  hour 
and  a  half  in  a  very  jaded  condition  at  Hud- 
dington,  the  seat  of  Robert  Winter.  Affairs 
seemed  to  wear  so  unpromising  an  aspect, 
that  Catesby  on  entering  the  house  imme- 
diately called  a  council  of  his  friends,  and 
asked  them  what  they  proposed  to  do. 

"  For  my  own  part,"  he  said,  ♦'  I  am 
resolved  to  fight  it  out.  I  will  continue 
my  march  as  long  as  I  can  get  a  man  to 
follow  me,  and  when  they  are  all  gone, 
will  proceed  alone.  But  I  will  never 
yield." 

"  We  will  all  die  together,  if  need  be," 
said  Sir  Everard  Digby.  "  Let  us  rest 
here  to-night,  and  in  the  morning  pro- 
ceed to  Lord  Windsor's  mansion,  Hewel 
Grange,  which  I  know  to  be  well  stocked 
with  arms,  and,  after  carrying  off  all  we 
can,  we  will  fortify  Stephen  Littleton's 
house  at  Holbeach,  and  maintain  it  for  a 
few  days  against  our  enemies." 

This  proposal  agreed  to,  they  repaired  to 
the  court-yard,  and  busied  themselves  in 
seeing  the  wants  of  their  followers  attend- 
ed to,  and  such  a  change  was  effected  by- 
good  fare  and  a  few  hours'  repose,  that  the 
spirits  of  the  whole  party  revived,  and  con- 
fidence was  once  more  restored.  A  slight 
damp,  however,  was  again  thrown  upon  the 
satisfaction  of  the  leaders  by  the  return  of 
Thomas  Winter  and  Stephen  Littleton 
from  Grafton.  Their  mission  had  proved 
wholly  unsuccessful.  Mr.  Talbot  had  not 
merely  refused  to  join  them,  but  had  threat- 
ened to  detain  them. 

"  He  says  we  deserve  the  worst  of 
deaths,"  observed  Thomas  Winter,  in  con- 
clusion, "  and  that  we  have  irretrievably 
injured  the  Catholic  cause." 

"And  I  begin  to  fear  he  speaks  the  truth," 
rejoined  Chistopher  Wright.  "  However, 
for  us  there  is  no  retreat." 

"  None  whatever,"  rejoined  Catesby, 
in  a  sombre  tone.  "  We  must  choose  be- 
tween death  upon  the  battle-field,  or  on  the 
scaffold." 

"The  former  be  my  fate,"  cried  Percy. 

"  And  mine,"  added  Catesby. 


164 


GUY     FAWKES. 


An  anxious  and  perturbed  night  was 
passed  by  the  conspirators,  and  many  a 
jilan  was  proposed  and  abandoned^.  It 
iiad  been  arranged  amonar  them  that  they 
should  each  in  succession  make  the  rounds 
of  the  place,  to  see  that  the  sentinels  were 
•at  their  posts, — strict  orders  having  been 
given  to  the  latter  to  fire  upon  whomso- 
ever might  attempt  to  fly, — but  as  Catesby, 
despite  his  great  previous  fatigue,  was  un- 
able to  rest,  he  took  this  duty  chiefly  upon 
himself. 

llelurning  at  midnight  from  an  examina- 
tion of  the  court-yard,  he  was  about  to  enter 
the  house,  when  he  perceived  before  him  a 
tall  figure  with  a  cloak  muffled  about  its 
face,  standing  in  his  path.  It  was  per- 
fectly motionless,  and  Catesby,  who  car- 
ried a  lantern  in  his  hand,  threw  tiie  light 
upon  it,  but  it  neither  moved  forward,  nor 
altered  its  position,  Catesby  would  have 
challenged  it,  but  an  undefinable  terror 
seized  him,  and  his  tongue  clove  to  the 
roof  of  his  mouth.  An  idea  rose  to  his 
mind  that  it  was  the  spirit  of  Guy  Fawkes, 
and  by  a  powerful  efl'ort  he  compelled  him- 
self to  address  it. 

"  Are  you  come  to  warn  me?"  he  de- 
manded. 

The  figure  moved  in  acquiescence,  and 
wihdravving  the  cloak,  revealed  features  of 
ghastly  paleness,  but  resembling  those  of 
Fawkes. 

"  Have  I  long  to  live  1"  demanded 
Catesby. 

The  figure  shook  its  head. 

"  Shall  I  fall  to-morrow  1"  pursued 
Catesby. 

The  figure  again  made  a  gesture  in  the 
negative. 

"  The  next  day]" 

Solemnly  inclming  its  head,  the  figure 
once  more  muffled  its  ghastly  visage  in  its 
cloak,  and  melted  from  his  view. 

For  some  time,  Catesby  remained  in  a 
state  almost  of  stupefaction.  He  tlien 
summoned  up  all  the  resolution  of  his  na- 
ture, and  instead  of  returning  to  the  house, 
continued  to  pace  to  and  fro  in  the  court, 
and  at  last  walked  forth  into  the  garden. 
It  was  profoundly  dark,  and  he  had  not 
advanced  many  steps  when  he  suddenly 
encountered  a  man.  Repressing  the  excla- 
mation that  rose  to  his  lips,  he  drew  a 
petronel  from  his  belt,  and  awaited  till  the 
person  addressed  him. 

"Is  it  you,  Sir  .lohn  Foliotl"  asked  a 
voice,  which  he  instantly  recognised  as 
that  of  Topclifie. 

"  Ay,"  replied  Catesby,  in  a  low   tone. 

"  Did  you  manage  to  get  into  the  house?" 
pursutd  'J'opclille. 

"  I  did,"  relumed  Catesby  ;  "  but  speak 
lower.  'J'here  is  a  sentinel  within  a  few 
pacts  of  us.     Come  this  way." 


And  grasping  the  other's  arm,  he  drew 
him  further  down  the  walk. 

"  Do  you  think  we  may  venture  to  sur- 
prise them?"  demanded  Topclifle. 

"  Hum  I"  exclaimed  Catesby;  hesitat- 
ing, in  the  hope  of  inducing  the  other  to 
betray  his  design. 

"  Or  shall  we  wait  the  arrival  of  Sir 
Richard  Walsh,  the  sheriff  of  Worcester- 
shire, and  the  posse  comitaliis?''^  pursued 
TopclilTe. 

"  How  soon  do  you  think  the  sheriff 
will  arrive?"  asked  Catesby,  scarcely  able 
to  disguise  his  anxiety. 

"  He  cannot  be  here  before  daybreak — 
if  so  soon,"  returned  Topcliffe,  "and  then 
we  shall  have  to  besiege  the  house,  and 
though  I  have  no  fear  of  the  result,  yet 
some  of  the  conspirators  may  fall  in  the 
skirmish  ;  and  my  orders  from  the  Earl  of 
Salisbury,  as  I  have  already  apprised  you, 
are,  to  take  them  alive." 

"True,"  replied  Catesby. 

"  I  would  not  for  twice  the  reward  I 
shall  receive  for  the  capture  of  the  whole 
party  that  that  desperate  traitor,  Catesby, 
should  be  slain,"  continued  TopcliflTe. 
"  The  plot  was  contrived  by  him,  and 
the  extent  of  its  ramifications  can  alone 
be  ascertained  through  him." 

"I  think  I  can  contrive  their  capture," 
observed  Catesby ;  "  but  the  utmost  cau- 
tion must  be  used.  I  will  return  to  the 
house,  and  find  out  where  the  chief  con- 
spirators are  lodged.  I  will  then  throw 
open  the  door,  and  will  return  to  this  place, 
where  you  can  have  our  men  assembled. 
If  we  can  seize  and  secure  the  leaders,  the 
rest  will  be  easy." 

"  You  will  run  great  risk.  Sir  John," 
said  TopclitTe,  with  affected  concern. 

"  Heed  not  that,"  replied  Catesby. 
"You  may  expect  me  in  a  few  minutes. 
Get  together  your  men  as  noiselessly  as 
you  can." 

With  this,  he  hastily  withdrew. 

On  returning  to  the  house,  he  instantly 
roused  his  companions,  and  acquainted 
them  with  what  had  occurred. 

"  My  object,"  he  said,  "  is  to  make  Top- 
cliffe a  prisoner.  We  may  obtain  much 
useful  information  from  him.  As  to  the 
others,  if  they  offer  resistance,  we  will 
put  ihem  to  death." 

"What  force  have  they?"  asked  Sir 
Everard  Digby,  with  some  uneasiness. 

"  It  is!  impossible  to  say  precisely,"  re- 
plied Catesby;  "but  not  more  than  a 
handful  of  men  I  should  imagine,  as  they 
are  waiting  for  Sir  Richard  VValsh." 

"  I  knov/  not  what  may  be  the  issue 
of  this  mailer,"  observed  Robert  Winter, 
whose  looks  were  unusually  haggard; 
"but  I  have  had  a  strange  and  ominous 
dream,  which  fills  me  with  apprehension.". 


GUY    FAWKES. 


165 


'*  Indeed  !"  exclaimed  Catesby,  upon 
whose  iniiid  the  recollection  of  the  ap- 
parition he  had  beheld,  rushed. 

"  Catesby,"  pursued  Robert  Winter, 
taking  him  aside,  "  if  you  have  any  sin 
unrepented  of  I  counsel  you  to  make  your 
peace  with  Heaven,  for  I  fear  you  are  not 
long  for  this  world." 

"  It  may  be  so,"  rejoined  Catesby  firm- 
ly, "and  [  have  many  dark  and  damninjr 
sins  upon  my  soul,  but  I  will  die  as  I  have 
lived,  firm  and  unshaken  to  the  last.  And 
now,  let  us  prepare  for  our  foes." 

So  sayiniT,  he  proceeded  to  call  up  the 
trustiest  of  his  men,  and  enjoining  pro- 
found silence  upon  them,  disposed  tiiem 
in  various  places  that  they  might  instant- 
ly appear  at  his  signal.  After  giving  them 
other  directions,  he  returned  to  the  garden, 
and  coughed  slightly.  He  was  answered 
by  a  quickly-approaching  footstep,  and  a 
voice  demanded, 

"  Are  you  there.  Sir  John  1" 
Catesby  answered  in  a  low  tone  in  the 
affirmative. 

"  Come  forward,  then,"  rejoined  Top- 
cliffe. 

As  he  spoke,  there  was  a  rush  of  per- 
sons towards  the  spot,  and  seizing  Catesby, 
he  cried  in  a  triumphant  tone,  while  he 
unmasked  a  lantern,  and  threw  its  light  full 
upon  his  face, 

"  You  are  caught  in  your  own  trap,  Mr. 
Catesby.     You  are  my  prisoner." 

"Not  so,  villain,"  cried  Catesby,  dis- 
engaging himself  by  a  powerful  effort. 

Springing  backwards,  he  drew  his 
sword,  and  making  the  blade  describe  a 
circle  round  his  body,  effected  his  retreat 
in  safety,  though  a  dozen  shots  were  fired 
at  him.  Leaping  the  garden  wall,  he  was 
instantly  surrounded  by  the  other  conspi- 
rators, and  the  greater  part  of  the  band, 
who,  hearing  the  reports  of  the  fire-arms, 
had  hurried  to  the  spot.  Instantly  putting 
himself  at  their  head,  Catesby  returned  to 
the  garden  ;  but  Topcliffe  and  his  party 
had  taken  the  alarm,  and  fled.  Torches 
were  brought,  and  by  Catesby's  directions 
a  large  heap  of  dry  stubble  was  set  on  fire. 
But,  though  the  flames  revealed  every  ob- 
ject for  a  considerable  distance  around 
them,  no  traces  of  the  hostile  party  could 
be  discerned. 

After  continuing  their  ineffectual  search 
for  some  time,  the  conspirators  returned 
to  the  house,  and  abandoning  all  idea  of 
retiring  to  rest,  kept  strict  watch  during 
the  remainder  of  the  night.  Little  conver- 
sation took  place.  All  were  deeply  depress- 
ed :  and  Catesby  paced  backwards  and 
forwards  within  a  passage  leading  from  the 
hall  to  the  dining-chamber.  His  thoufrhts 
were  gloomy  enough,  and  he  retraced  the 
wliole  of  his  wild  and  turbulentcarecr,  pon- 


dering upon    its  close,  which  he  could  not 
disguise  from  himself  was  at  liand. 

"It  matters  not,"  he  mentally  rjatnlated; 
"I  shall  not  die  ignoniiniously,an(i  I  would 
rather  perisli  in  the  vigour  of  manhood, 
than  linger  out  a  miserable  old  age.  1  have 
striven  hard  to  achieve  a  great  enterprise, 
and  having  failed,  have  little  else  to  live  for. 
This  band  cannot  hold  together  two  days 
longer.  Our  men  will  desert  us,  or  turn 
upon  us  to  obtain  the  price  set  upon  our 
heads.  And  were  they  true,  I  have  little 
reliance  upon  my  companions.  They  have 
no  longer  the  confidence  that  can  alone  in- 
sure success,  and  I  expect  each  moment 
some  one  will  propose  a  surrender.  Sur- 
render !  I  will  never  do  so  with  my  life. 
Something  must  be  done — something  wor- 
thy of  me — and  then  let  me  perish.  I 
have  ever  prayed  to  die  a  soldier's  death." 

As  he  uttered  these  words  unconsciously 
aloud,  he  became  aware  of  the  presence  of 
Robert  Winter,  who  stood  at  the  end  of 
the  passage,  watciiing  him. 

"  Your  prayer  will  not  be  granted, 
Catesby,"  said  the  latter.  "  Some  dread- 
ful doom,  I  fear,  is  reserved  for  you  and 
all  of  us." 

"  What  mean  you]"  demanded  the 
other,  uneasily. 

"  Listen  to  me,"  replied  Robert  Win- 
ter. "  I  told  you  I  had  a  strange  and 
appalling  dream  to-night,  and  I  will  now 
relate  it.  I  thought  I  was  in  a  boat  upon 
the  river  Thames,  when  all  at  once  the 
day,  which  had  been  bright  and  smiling, 
became  dark  and  overcast — not  dark  like 
the  shades  of  night,  but  gloomy  and  omi- 
nous as  when  the  sun  is  shrouded  by  an 
eclipse.  I  looked  around,  and  every  ob- 
ject was  altered.  The  tower  of  Saint 
Paul's  stood  awry,  and  seemed  ready  to 
topple  down — so  did  the  spires  and  tow- 
ers of  all  the  surrounding  fanes.  The 
houses  on  London  Bridge  leaned  fright- 
fully over  the  river,  and  the  habitations 
lining  its  banks  on  either  side,  seemed 
shaken  to  their  foundations.  I  fancied 
some  terrible  earthquake  must  have  oc- 
curred, or  that  the  end  of  the  world  was 
at  hand." 

"  Go  on,"  said  Catesby,  who  had  lis- 
tened with  profound  attention  to  the  rela- 
tion. 

"The  stream,  too,  changed  its  colour," 
continued  Robert  Winter,  "and  became 
red  as  blood,  and  the  man  who  rowed  my 
boat  was  gone,  and  his  place  occupied  by 
a  figure  masked  and  habited  like  an  exe- 
cutioner. I  commanded  him  to  row  me 
ashore,  and  in  an  instant  the  bark  shot  to 
land,  and  I  s|)rang  out,  glad  to  be  liberated 
from  my  mysterious  conductor.  My 
steps  involuntarily  led  nie  toward  the  ca- 
thedral, and  on  entering  it  1  found  its  pil- 


166 


GUY    FAWKES. 


lars,  shrines,  monuments,  and  roof  hung- 
with  blacli.  The  throng  that  ever  haunt 
Paul's  Walk  had  disappeared,  and  a  few 
dismal  figures  alone  traversed  the  aisles. 
On  approaching  them,  I  recognised  in 
their  swollen,  dc^ath-like,  and  blackened 
lineaments  some  resemblance  to  you  and 
our  friends.  I  was  about  to  interrogate 
them  when  1  was  awakened  by  your- 
self" 

"A  strange  dream,  truly,"  observed 
Calesby,  musingly,  "and,  coupled  with 
what  1  myself  have  seen  to-night,  would 
seem  to  bode  evil." 

And  he  then  proceeded  to  describe  the 
supernatural  appearance  he  had  beheld  to 
his  companion. 

"  All  is  over  with  us,"  rejoined  Robert 
"Winter.  "  We  must  prepare  to  meet  our 
fate." 

"  We  must  meet  it  like  men — like 
brave  men,  Robert,"  replied  Catesby. 
"  We  must  not  disgrace  ourselves  and  our 
cause." 

"You  are  right,"  rejoined  Robert  Win- 
ter; "but  these  visions  are  more  terrible 
than  the  contemplation  of  death  itself." 

"  If  you  require  further  rest,  take  it," 
returned  Catesby.  "In  an  hour,  I  shall 
call  up  our  men,  and  march  to  Hewel 
Grange." 

"  I  am  wearied  enough,"  replied  Robert 
Winter,  "  but  I  dare  not  close  my  eyes 
again." 

"  Then  recommend  your  soul  to  Hea- 
ven," said  Catesby.  "  I  would  be  alone. 
Melancholy  thoughts  press  upon  me,  and 
I  desire  to  unburden  my  heart  to  God." 

Robert  Winter  then  left  him,  and  he 
withdrew  into  a  closet  where  there  was 
an  image  of  the  Virgin,  and  kneeling  be- 
fore it,  prayed  long  and  fervently.  Aris- 
ing in  a  calmer  frame  of  mind,  he  returned 
to  the  hall,  and  summoning  his  compan- 
ions and  followers,  their  horses  were 
brought  forth,  and  they  commenced  their 
inarch. 

It  was  about  four  o'clock  when  they 
started,  and  so  dark,  that  they  had  some 
difficulty  in  finding  the  road.  They  pro- 
ceeded at  a  slow  pace,  and  with  the  utmost 
caution;  but  notwithstanding  this,  and 
though  the  two  Winters  and  Grant,  who 
were  well  acquainted  with  the  country, 
led  the  way,  many  trilling  delays  and  dis- 
asters occurred.  Their  baggage-cart  fre- 
quently stuck  fast  in  the  deep  ruts,  while 
the  men  missing  tlieir  way,  got  into  the 
trenches  skirting  the  lane,  and  were  not 
unfrequently  thrown  from  their  horses. 
More  than  once,  too,  the  alarm  was  given 
that  they  were  pursued,  and  a  sudden  halt 
ordered;  but  these  apprehensions  proved 
groundless,  and,  after  a  most  fatiguing 
ride,    tiiey    found    themselves    at    tStoke 


Prior,  and    within   two  miles  of  Hewel 
Grange. 

Originally  built  in  the  early  part  of  the 
reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  and  granted  by 
that  monarch  to  an  ancestor  of  its  present 
possessor.  Lord  Windsor,  this  ancient 
mansion  was  quadrangular  in  form,  and 
surrounded  by  a  broad  deep  fosse.  Situ- 
ated in  the  heart  of  an  extensive  park,  at 
the  foot  of  a  gentle  hill,  it  was  now  ap- 
proached from  the  brow  of  the  latter  beau- 
tiful eminence  by  the  rebel  party.  But  at 
this  season,  and  at  this  hour,  both  park 
and  mansion  had  a  forlorn  look.  The 
weather  still  continued  foggy,  with  driz- 
zling showers,  and  though  the  trees  were 
not  yet  entirely  stripped  of  their  foliage, 
their  glories  had  altogether  departed.  The 
turf  was  damp  and  plashy,  and  in  some 
places  partook  so  much  of  the  character  of 
a  swamp,  that  the  horsemen  were  obliged 
to  alter  their  course. 

But  all  obstacles  were  eventually  over- 
come, and  in  ten  minutes  after  their  en- 
trance into  the  park,  they  were  within 
gunshot  of  the  mansion.  There  were  no 
symptoms  of  defence  apparent,  but  the 
drawbridge  being  raised,  it  was  Catesby's 
opinion,  notwithstanding  appearances, 
that  their  arrival  was  expected.  He  was 
further  confirmed  in  this  idea  when, 
sounding  a  trumpet,  and  calling  to  the 
porter  to  let  down  the  drawbridge,  no 
answer  was  returned. 

The  entrance  to  the  mansion  was  through 
a  lofty  and  machiolated  gateway,  strength- 
ened at  each  side  by  an  embattled  turret." 
Perceiving  a  man  at  one  of  the  loopholes, 
Catesby  discharged  his  petronel  at  him, 
and  it  was  evident  from  the  cry  that  fol- 
lowed that  the  person  was  wounded.  An 
instant  afterwards,  calivers  were  thrust 
through  the  other  loopholes,  and  several 
shots  fired  upon  the  rebels,  while  some 
dozen  armed  men  appeared  upon  the  sum- 
mit of  the  tower,  and  likewise  commenced 
firing. 

Perceiving  Topcliffe  among  the  latter, 
and  enraged  at  the  sight,  Catesby  dis- 
charged another  petronel  at  him,  but  with- 
out efiect.  He  then  called  to  some  of  his 
men  to  break  down  the  door  of  an  adjoin- 
ing barn,  and  to  place  it  in  the  moat.  The 
order  was  instantly  obeyed,  and  the  door 
afloat  in  the  fosse,  and  springing  upon  it, 
he  impelled  himself  with  a  pike  towards 
the  opposite  bank.  Several  shots  were 
fired  at  him,  and  though  more  than  one 
strufik  the  door,  he  crossed  the  moat  unin- 
jured. So  suddenly  was  this  daring  pas- 
sage eflfecled,  that  before  any  of  the  de- 
fenders of  the  mansion  could  prevent  him, 
Catesby  had  severed  the  links  of  thechaln 
fastening  the  drawbridge,  and  it  fell  clat- 
tering down. 


GUY    F  A  W  K  E  S. 


167 


With  a  loud  shout  his  companions  then 
crossed  it.  But  they  had  siill  a  difficulty 
to  encounter.  The  gates,  which  were  of 
great  strength,  and  covered  with  plates  of 
iron,  were  barred.  But  a  ladder  having 
been  found  in  the  barn,  it  was  brought  for- 
ward, and  Catesby  mounting  it  sword  in 
hand,  drove  back  ail  who  opposed,  and 
got  upon  the  wall.  He  was  followed  by 
Sir  Everard  Digby,  Percy,  and  several 
others,  and  driving  the  royalists  before 
them,  they  made  their  way  down  a  flight 
of  stone  steps,  and  proceeding  to  the  gate- 
way, threw  it  open  and  admitted  the  others. 
All  this  was  the  work  of  a  few  mi- 
nutes. ' 

Committing  the  ransacking  of  the  man- 
sion to  Digby  and  Percy,  and  commanding 
a  dozen  men  to  follow  him,  Catesby  entered 
a  small  arched  doorway,  and  ascended  a 
winding  stone  staircase  in  search  of  Top- 
cliffe.  His  progress  was  opposed  by  tiie 
soldiers,  but  beating  aside  all  opposition, 
he  gained  the  roof.  Topcliffe,  however, 
was  gone.  Anticipating  the  result  of  the 
attack,  he  had  let  himself  drop  from  the 
summit  of  the   tower   to   the  walls,  and 


descending  by  the  ladder,  had  made  good 
his  retreat. 

Disarming  the  Soldiers,  Catesby  then 
descended  to  the  court-yard,  where  in  a 
short  time  a  large  store  of  arms,  consisting 
of  corslets,  demi-lances,  pikes,  calivers, 
and  two  falconets,  were  brought  forth. 
These,  together  with  a  cask  of  powder, 
were  placed  in  the  baggage-waggon.  Mean- 
while, the  larder  and  the  cellar  had  been  ex- 
plored,and  provisions  of  all  kinds,  together 
with  a  barrel  of  mead,  and  another  of  strong 
ale,  being  found,  they  were  distributed 
among  the  men. 

While  this  took  place,  Catesby  searched 
the  mansion,  and,  partly  by  threats,  partly 
l)y  persuasion,  induced  about  twenty  per- 
sons to  join  them.  This  unlooked-for 
success  so  encouraged  the  conspirators 
that  their  drooping  spirits  beofan  to  revive. 
Catesby  appeared  as  much  elated  as  the 
others,  but  at  heart  he  was  full  of  mis- 
giving. 

Soon  afterwards,  the  rebel  party  quitted 
Hewel  Grange,  taking  with  them  every 
weapon  they  could  find.  The  forced  re- 
cruits were  placed  in  the  midst  of  the  band, 
so  that  escape  w^as  impracticable. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


HOLBEACH. 


Avoiding  the  high  road,  and  traversing 
an  unfrequented  part  of  the  country,  the 
conspirators  shaped  their  course  towards 
Stourbridge.  As  they  reached  Forfield 
Green,  they  perceived  a  large  party  de- 
scending the  hilly  ground  near  Broms- 
grove,  and  evidently  in  pursuit  of  them- 
An  immediate  halt  was  ordered,  and  taking 
possession  of  a  farm  house,  they  prepared 
themselves  for  defence. 

Seeing  these  preparations,  their  pursuers, 
who  proved  to  be  Sir  Richard  Walsh,  the 
sheriff  of  Worcestershire,  Sir  John  Foliot, 
three  gentlemen  named  Ketelbye,  Salwaye, 
and  Conyers,  attended  by  a  large  posse  of 
men,  all  tolerably  well  armed,  drew  up  at 
some  distance  from  the  farm,  and  appeared 
to  be  consulting  on  the  prudence  of  making 
an  attack.  Topcliffe  was  with  them;  and 
Catesby,  who  reconnoitred  thieir  proceed- 
ings from  a  window  of  the  dwelling,  in- 
ferred from  his  gestures  that  he  was  against 
the  assault.  And  so  it  proved.  The  roy- 
alist party  remained  where  they  were,  and 
as  one  or  two  of  their  number  were  occa- 
eionly  sent  away,  Catesby  judged,  and 
correctly,  that  they  expectetl  some  rein- 
forcement. 


Not  willing  to  wait  for  this,  he  deter- 
mined to  continue  his  march,  and,  accord- 
ingly forming  his  men  into  a  close  line, 
and  bringing  up  the  rear  himself,  they 
again  set  forward.  Sir  Richard  Walsh  and 
his  party  followed  them,  and  whenever  they 
were  in  a  difficult  part  of  the  road,  harassed 
them  with  a  sudden  attack.  In  this  way 
several  stragglers  were  cut  off,  and  a  few 
prisoners  made.  So  exasperated  did  Cates- 
by become  by  these  annoyances  that  though 
desirous  to  push  forward  as  fast  as  possi- 
ble, he  halted  at  the  entrance  of  a  common, 
and  prepared  for  an  engagement.  But  his 
purpose  was  defeated,  for  the  royalist  party 
took  another  course,  nor  did  he  see  any- 
thing more  of  them  for  some  time. 

In  about  an  hour  the  rebels  arrived  at 
the  banks  of  the  river  Stour,  not  far  from 
the  little  village  of  Churchill,  and  here 
just  as  they  were  preparing  to  ford  the 
stream,  the  sheriff  and  his  followers  again 
made  their  appearance.  By  this  time, 
also,  the  forces  of  their  opponents  were 
considerably  augmented,  and  as  more 
than  a  third  of  their  own  party  were  en- 
gaged in  crossing  the  stream,  which  was 
greatly  swollen  by  the  recent  rains,  and 

15* 


163 


GUY    F  A  W  K  E  S. 


extremely  dangerous,  their  position  was 
one  of  no  slight  peril. 

Nothing  daunted,  however,  Cateshy 
instantly  drew  up  his  men  on  the  hank, 
and,  after  a  short  sUirmish,  drove  away 
the  enemy,  and  afterwards  contrived  to 
cross  the  river  without  much  loss.  He 
found,  however,  tiiat  the  haggage-cart  had 
got  itninersed  in  the  stream,  and  it  was 
feared  that  the  powder  would  he  damaged. 
Tiiey  remained  on  the  opposite  bank  for 
some  time;  but,  as  their  enemies  did  not 
attemj)t  to  follow  them,  they  took  the  way 
to  Holbeach,  a  large  and  strongly  built 
mansion  belonging,  as  has  been  already 
slated,  to  Stephen  Littleton.  Here  they 
arrived  without  further  molestation,  and 
their  first  business  was  to  put  it  into  a 
complete  state  of  defence. 

After  a  long  and  anxious  consultation. 
Sir  Everard  Digby  quitted  them,  under- 
taking to  return  on  the  following  day 
with  succours.  Stephen  Littleton  also 
disappeared  on  the  same  evening.  His 
flight  produced  a  strong  impression  on 
Cateshy,  and  he  besought  the  others  not 
to  abandon  the  good  cause,  but  to  stand 
iiy  it,  as  he  himself  meant  to  do  to  the 
last.  They  all  earnestly  assured  him  that 
tiiey  would  do  so,  except  Robert  Winter, 
who  sat  apart,  and  took  no  share  in  their 
discourse. 

Oatesby  then  examined  the  arms  and 
powder  that  had  been  plunged  in  the  water 
in  crossing  the  Stour,  and  found  that  the 
latter  had  been  so  much  wetted  as  to  be 
lieariy  useless.  A  sufficient  stock  of 
powder  being  of  the  utmost  consequence 
to  them,  he  caused  all  the  contents  of  the 
barrel  not  dissolved  by  the  water  to  be 
poured  into  a  large  platter,  and  proceeded 
10  dry  ri  bef're  a  fire  which  had  been  kin- 
<lled  in  the  hall.  A  bag  of  powder,  which 
had  likewise  been  slightly  wetted,  was 
also  placed  at  what  was  considered  a  safe 
distance  from  the  fire. 

"  Heaven  grant  this  may  prove  more 
destructive  to  our  enemies  than  the  com- 
bustil)les  we  placed  in  the  mine  beneath 
the  Parliament  House,"  observed  Percy. 

"  Heaven  grant  so,  indeed!"  rejoined 
Cateshy,  with  a  moody  smile.  "They 
would  call  it  retribution,  were  we  to 
perish  by  the  same  means  which  we  de- 
signed for  others." 

*'  Jnst  not  on  so  serious  a  matter,  Cates- 
hy," observed  Robert  Winter.  "  For  my 
own  part,  1  dread  the  sight  of  powder, 
and  shall  walk  forth  till  you  have  dried 
this,  and  put  it  away." 

"  You  are  not  sroing  to  leave  us  like 
Stephen  Littleton'!"  rejoined  Cateshy, 
suspiciously. 

•'  1  will  go  with  him,"  said  Christopher 


Wright;  "so  you  need  be  under  no  appre- 
hension." 

Accordingly,  he  quitted  the  hall  with. 
Robert  Winter,  and  they  proceeded  to  the 
court-yard,  and  were  conversing  together 
on  the  dismal  prospects  of  the  party,  when 
a  tremendous  explosion  took  place.  The 
roof  of  the  building  seemed  rent  in  twain, 
and  amidst  a  shower  of  tiles,  plaster, 
liricks,  and  broken  wood  falling  around, 
the  bag  of  powder  dropped  untouched  at 
their  feet. 

"  Mother  of  mercy!"  exclaimed  Chris- 
topher Wright,  picking  it  up.  "  Here  is 
a  providential  occurrence.  Had  this  ex- 
ploded, we  must  all  have  been  destroyed." 

"  Let  us  see  what  has  happened,"  cried 
Robert  Winter. 

And,  followed  by  Christopher  Wright, 
he  rushed  towards  the  hall,  and  bursting 
open  the  door,  beheld  Cateshy  enveloped 
in  a  cloud  of  smoke,  and  pressing  his 
hand  to  his  face,  which  was  scorched  and 
blackened  by  the  explosion.  Rookwood 
was  stretched  on  the  floor  in  a  state  of  in- 
sensibility, and  it  at  first  appeared  that 
life  was  extinct.  Percy  was  extinguishing 
the  flames  which  had  caught  his  dress, 
and  .John  Grant  was  similarly  occupied. 

"Those  are  the  very  faces  I  beheld  in 
my  dream,"  cried  Robert  Winter,  gazing 
at  them  with  affright.  "It  was  a  true 
warning." 

Rushinnr  up  to  Cateshy,  Christopher 
Wright  clasped  him  in  his  arms,  and 
extinguishing  his  flaming  apparel,  cried, 
"  Wretch  that  I  am!  that  I  should  live  to 
see  this  day!" 

"  Be  not  alarmed!"  gasped  Catesby. 
"It  is  nothing — it  was  a  merr;  accident." 

"  It  is  no  accident,  Cateshy,"  replied 
Robert  Winter.  "Heaven  is  against  us 
and  our  design." 

And  he  quitted  the  room,  and  left  the 
house.     Nor  did  he  return  to  it. 

"1  will  pray  for  forgiveness!"  cried 
Percy,  whose  vision  was  so  much  injured 
by  the  explosion  that  he  could  as  yet  see 
nothing.  And  dragging  himself  before  an 
image  of  the  Virgin,  he  prayed  aloud, 
acknowledging  that  the  act  he  had  de- 
signed was  so  bloody  that  it  called  for  the 
vengeance  of  Heaven,  and  expressing  his 
sincere  repentance. 

"No  more  of  this,"  cried  Catesby, 
staggering  up  to  him,  and  snatching  the 
image  from  him.  "  It  was  a  mere  acci- 
dent, I  tell  yon.  We  are  all  alive,  and 
shall  yet  succeed." 

On  inquiry,  Christopher  Wright  learned 
that  a  blazing  coal  had  shot  out  of  the 
fire,  and  falling  into  the  platter  containing 
tiie  powder,  had  occasioned  the  disastrous 
accident  above  described. 


GUY    FAWKES. 


169 


CHAPTER    V. 


THE  CLOSE  OF  THE  REBELLION. 


Unable  lontrer  to  endure  the  ajrony  oc- 
casioned by  his  scorclied  visa<re,  Catesby 
called  for  a  bucket  of  water,  and  plunjred 
his  head  into  it.  Somewhat  relieved  by 
the  immersion,  he  turned  to  inquire  after 
his  fellow-putferers.  Rookwood  havin<r 
been  carried  into  the  open  air  had  by  this 
time  rejrained  his  consciousness;  Percy 
was  shockiniriy  injured,  his  hair  and  eye- 
brows burnt,  his  skin  blackened  and  swol- 
len with  unseemly  blisters,  and  the  sight 
of  one  eye  entirely  destroyed;  while  John 
Grant,  though  a  degree  less  hurl  than  his 
companions,  presented  a  grim  and  ghastly 
appearance.  In  fact,  the  four  sufferers 
looked  as  if  they  had  just  escaped  from 
some  unearthly  place  of  torment,  and  were 
doomed  henceforth  to  bear  the  brand  of 
Divine  wrath  on  their  countenances.  See- 
ing the  effect  produced  on  the  others, 
Catesby  rallied  all  his  force,  and  treating 
the  accident  as  a  matter  of  no  moment,  and 
which  ought  not  to  disturb  the  equanimity 
of  brave  men,  called  for  wine,  and  quaffed 
a  full  goblet.  Injured  as  he  was,  and 
smarting  with  pain,  Percy  followed  his 
example,  but  both  John  Grant  and  Rook- 
wood refused  the  cup. 

"  Harkee,  gentlemen,"  cried  Catesby, 
fiercely,  "you  may  drink  or  not,  as  you 
see  fit.  But  I  will  not  have  you  assume 
a  deportment  calculated  to  depress  our 
followers.  Stephen  Littleton  and  Robert 
Winter  have  basely  deserted  us.  If  you 
have  any  intention  of  following  them,  go 
at  once.  We  are  better  without  you  than 
with  you." 

"1  have  no  thought  of  deserting  you, 
Catesby,"  rejoined  Rookwood,  mourn- 
I'ully;  "and  when  the  lime  arrives  for 
action,  you  will  find  I  shall  not  be  idle. 
But  I  am  now  assured  that  we  have  sold 
ourselves  to  perdition." 

"Pshaw!"  cried  Catesby,  with  a  laugh 
that  communicated  an  almost  fiendish  ex- 
pression to  his  grim  features;  "  because  a 
little  powder  has  accidentally  exploded 
and  blackened  our  faces,  are  we  to  see  in 
the  occurrence  the  retributive  justice  of 
Heaven?  Are  we  to  be  cast  down  by 
such  a  trifle]  Be  a  man,  and  rouse  your- 
self. Recollect  that  the  eyes  of  all  Eng- 
land are  upon  us;  and  if  we  must  perish, 
let  us  perish  in  a  maimer  that  becomes  us. 
No  real  mischief  iias  been  done.  My 
hand  is  as  able  to  wield  a  blade,  and  my 
sight  to  direct  a  shot,  as  heretofore.  If 
Heaven  had  meant  to  destroy  us,  the  bag 


of  powder  which  has  been  taken  up  in 
the  yard,  and  which  was  sufficient  not 
only  to  aimihilate  us,  but  to  lay  this  house 
in  ruins,  would  have  been  suffered  to  ex- 
plode." 

"Would  it  had  exploded!"  exclaimed 
John  Wright.  "All  would  then  have 
been  over." 

"Are  you,  too,  faint-hearted,  John?" 
cried  Catesby.  "Well,  well,  leave  me 
one  and  all  of  you.  1  will  fight  it  out 
alone." 

"You  wrong  me  by  the  suspicion, 
Catesby,"  returned  John  Wright.  "  I  am 
as  true  to  the  cause  as  yourself.  But  I 
perceive  that  our  last  hour  is  at  hand,  and 
I  would  it  were  past." 

"The  indulgence  of  such  a  wish  at 
such  a  moment  is  a  weakness,"  rejoined 
Catesby.  "  1  care  not  when  death  comes, 
provided  it  comes  gloriously;  and  such 
should  be  your  feeling.  On  the  manner 
in  which  we  meet  our  fate  will  depend  the 
effect  which  our  insurrection  will  produce 
throughout  the  country.  We  must  set  a 
brave  example  to  our  brethren.  Heaven 
be  praised,  we  shall  not  perish  on  the 
scaflbld!" 

"Be  not  too  sure  of  that,"  said  Grant, 
gloomily.     "  It  may  yet  be  our  fate." 

"It  shall  never  be  mine,"  cried 
Catesby. 

"  Nor  mine,"  added  Percy.  "  I  am  so 
far  from  regarding  the  recent  disaster  as  a 
punishment,  though  1  am  the  severest  suf- 
ferer by  it,  that  I  think  we  ought  to  return 
thanks  to  Heaven  for  our  preservation." 

"  In  whatever  light  the  accident  is 
viewed,"  observed  John  Wright,  "we 
cannot  too  soon  address  ourselves  to  Hea- 
ven. We  know  not  how  long  it  may  be 
in  our  power  to  do  so." 

"  Again  desponding,"  cried  Catesby. 
"  But  no  matter.  You  will  recover  your 
spirits  anon." 

John  Wright  shook  his  head,  and 
Catesby  pulling  his  cap  over  his  brows  to 
hide  his  features,  walked  forth  into  the 
courtyard.  He  found,  as  he  expected, 
that  general  consternation  prevailed 
amongst  the  band.  The  men  were  ga- 
thered together  in  little  knots,  and,  though 
they  became  silent  as  he  approached,  he 
j)erceived  ihey  were  discussing  the  neces- 
sity of  a  surrender.  Nothing  daunted  by 
these  unfavourable  appearances,  Catesby 
harangued  them  in  such  bold  terms  that 
he  soon  inspired  them  with  some  of  his 


170 


GUY    FAWKES. 


own  confidence,  and  completely  resteadied 
their  wavering  feelings. 

Elated  with  his  success,  he  caused  a 
cup  of  strong  ale  to  be  given  to  each  man, 
and  proposed  as  a  pledge  the  restoration 
of  the  Romish  Church.     He  then  returned 


keenest  pangs.  He  could  not  hide  from  him- 
self that,  to  serve  his  own  ambiiious  pur- 
poses, he  had  involved  many  (till  he  had 
deluded  them)  loyal  and  worthy  persons 
in  a  treasonable  project,  which  must  now 
terminate  in  their    destruction,  and    their 


to  the  house,  and  summoning  the  other  blood,  he  feared,  would  rest  upon  his  head, 
conspirators  to  attend  him  in  a  chamber  But  what  weighed  heaviest  of  all  upon 
on  the  ground-floor,  they  all  prayed  long  his  soul  was  the  probable  fate  of  Viviana. 
and  fervently,  and  concluded  by  adminis-  "  If  I  were  assured  she  would  escape," 
tering  the  sacrament  to  each  other.  he  thought,  "  1   should  care  litile  for  all 

It  was  now  thought  necessary  to  have  j  the  rest,  even  for  Fawkes.  They  say  it 
the  damage  done  by  the  explosion  repair-  i  is  never  too  late  to  repent.  But  my  re- 
ed, and  a  few  hours  were  employed  in  the  '  pentance  shall  lie  between  my  Maker  and 
operation,     Evening  was  fastapproaching,    myself.     Man  shall  never  know  it." 


and  Caiesby,  who  was  anxiously  expect 
ing  the  return  of  Sir  Everard  Digby,  sta- 
tioned himself  on  the  turreled  walls  of  the 
mansion  to  look  out  for  him.  But  he 
came  not,  and,  fearing  some  mischance 
must  have  befallen  him,  Caiesby  descend- 
ed. Desirous  of  concealing  his  misgivings 
from  his  companions,  he  put  on  a  cheerful 
manner,  as  he  joined  them. 

"  I  am  surprised  ere  this  that  we  have 
not  been  attacked,"  remarked  Percy. 
"  Our  enemies  may  be  waiting  for  the 
darkness,  to  take  us  by  surprise.  But  they 
■will  be  disappointed." 

"  I  can  only  account  for  the  delay  by 
supposing  they  have  encountered  Sir  Eve- 
rard Digby,  and  the  force  he  is  bringing 
to  us,"  remarked  Christopher  Wright. 

"  It  may  be  so,"  returned  Catesby, 
"and  if  so,  we  shall  soon  learn  the  re- 
sult." 

In  spite  of  all  Catesby's  efforts  he  fail- 
ed to  engage  his  companions  in  conversa- 
tion, and  feeling  it  would  best  suit  his 
present  frame  of  mind,  and  conlribute  most 
to  their  safety,  to  keep  in  constant  motion, 
he  proceeded  to  the  court-yard,  saw  that 
all  the  defences  were  secure,  that  the 
drawbridge  was  raised,  the  sentinels  at 
their  posts,  and  everything  prepared  for 
the  anticipated  attack.  Every  half  hour 
he  thus  made  his  rounds;  and  when  to- 
wards midnight  he  was  going  forth,  Percy 
said  to  him, 

"  Do  you  not  mean  to  take  any  rest, 
Cateshy?" 

"  Not  till  I  am  in  my  grave,"  was  the 
moody  reply. 

Catesby's  untiring  energy  was  in  fact 
a  marvel  to  all  his  followers.  His  iron 
frame  seemed  not  to  be  susceptible  of  fa- 
tigue; and  even  when  he  returned  to  the 
house,  he  continued  to  pace  to  and  fro  in 
the  passage  in  preference  to  lying  down. 

"•  Rest  tranquilly,"  he  said  to  Christo- 
pher Wright,  who  offered  to  take  his 
place.  "  1  will  rouse  you  on  the  slightest 
approach  of  danger." 

But  though  he  preserved  this  stoical 
exterior,  Catesby's  breast  was  torn  by  the 


The  night  was  dark,  and  the  gloom  was 
rendered  more  profound  by  a  dense  fog. 
Fearing  an  attack  might  now  be  attempt- 
ed, Catesby  renewed  his  vigilance. 
Marching  round  the  edge  of  the  moat,  he 
listened  to  every  sound  that  might  betray 
the  approach  of  a  foe.  For  some  time, 
nothing  occurred  to  excite  his  suspicions, 
until  about  an  hour  after  midnight,  as  he 
was  standing  at  the  back  of  the  house,  he 
fancied  he  detected  a  stealthy  tread  on  the 
other  side  of  the  fosse,  and  soon  became 
convinced  that  a  party  of  men  were  there. 
Determined  to  ascertain  their  movements 
before  giving  the  alarm,  he  held  his 
breath,  and  drawing  a  petronel,  remained 
perfectly  motionless.  Presently,  though 
he  could  discern  no  object,  he  distinctly 
heard  a  plank  laid  across  the  moat,  and 
could  distinguish  in  the  whispered  ac- 
cents of  one  of  the  party,  the  voice  of 
Topcliffe.  A  thrill  of  savage  joy  agitated 
his  bosom,  and  he  internally  congratulated 
himself  that  revenge  was  in  his  power. 

A  footstep,  though  so  noiseless  as  to  be 
inaudible  to  any  ear  less  acute  than  his 
own,  was  now  heard  crossing  the  plank, 
and  feeling  certain  it  was  Topcliffe, 
Catesby  allowed  him  to  land,  and  then 
suddenly  advancing,  kicked  the  plank,  on 
which  were  two  other  persons,  into  the 
water,  and  unmasking  a  dark  lantern, 
threw  its  light  upon  the  face  of  the  man 
near  him,  who  proved,  as  he  suspected,  to 
be  Topcliffe. 

Aware  of  the  advantage  of  making  a 
prisoner  of  importance,  Catesby  controlled 
the  impulse  that  prompted  him  to  sacri- 
fice Topcliffe  to  his  vengeance,  and  firing 
his  petronel  in  the  air  as  a  signal,  he  drew 
his  sword,  and  sprang  u|)on  him.  Top- 
cliffe attempted  to  defend  himself,  but  he 
was  no  match  for  the  skill  and  impetuosity 
of  Catesby,  and  was  instantly  overpower- 
ed and  thrown  to  the  ground.  By  this 
time,  Percy  and  several  of  the  band  had 
come  up,  and  delivering  Topcliffe  to  the 
charge  of  two  of  the  stoutest  of  them, 
Caiesby  turned  his  attention  to  the  other 
assailants.     One  of  them  got  across  the 


GUY     FAWKES. 


171 


moat;  but  the  other,  encnmbered  by  bis 
arms,  was  flounderinpr  about,  when  Cates- 
by  pointincT  a  petronel  at  bis  head,  be  was 
fain  to  surrender,  and  was  dragged  out, 

A  volley  of  musketry  was  now  fired  by 
the  rebels  in  the  supposed  direction  of 
their  opponents,  but  it  could  not  be  ascer- 
tained what  execution  was  done.  After 
waitinor  for  some  lime,  in  expectation  of 
a  further  attack,  Catesby  placed  a  g-uard 
upon  the  spot,  and  proceeded  to  examine 
Topcliffe.  He  had  been  thrown  into  a 
cellar  beneath  the  kitchen,  and  the  two 
men  were  on  o^uard  over  him.  He  refused 
to  answer  any  of  Catesby's  questions, 
though  enforced  by  threats  of  instant  death. 
On  searching  him  some  letters  were  found 
upon  him,  and  thrusting  them  into  his 
doublet,  Catesby  left  him,  with  the  strict- 
est injunctions  to  the  men  as  to  his  safe 
custody. 

He  then  proceeded  to  examine  the  other 
captive,  and  found  him  somewhat  more 
tractable.  This  man  informed  him  that 
Topcliffe  had  intended  to  steal  into  the 
house  with  the  design  of  capturing  the 
conspirators,  or,  failing  in  that,  of  setting 
fire  to  the  premises.  He  also  ascertained 
that  Topcliffe's  force  consisted  only  of  a 
dozen  men,  so  that  no  further  attack  need 
be  apprehended. 

Notwithstanding  this  information  Cates- 
by determined  to  be  on  the  safe  side,  and 
doubling  the  sentinels,  he  stationed  one  of 
the  conspirators,  all  of  whom  had  sprung 
to  arms  at  his  signal,  at  each  of  the  ex- 
posed points.  He  then  withdrew  to  the 
mansion,  and  examined  Topcliffe's  papers. 
The  first  despatch  he  opened  was  one  from 
the  Earl  of  Salisbury,  bearing  date  about 
the  early  part  of  Fawkes's  confinement  in 
the  Tower,  in  which  the  Earl  expressed 
his  determination  of  wringing  a  full  con- 
fession from  the  prisoner.  A  bitter  smile 
curled  Catesby's  lip  as  he  read  this,  but 
his  brow  darkend  as  he  proceeded,  and 
found  that  a  magnificienl  reward  was  offer- 
ed for  his  own  arrest. 

"  I  must  have  Catesby  captured,"  ran 
the  missive, — "so  see  you  spare  no  pains 
to  take  him.  I  would  rather  all  escaped 
tlian  he  did.  His  execution  is  of  the  last 
importance  in  the  matter,  and  I  rely  upon 
your  bringing  him  to  me  alive." 

"  I  will  at  least  baulk  him  of  this  satis- 
faction," muttered  Catesby.  *'  But  what 
is  this  of  Viviana  1" 

Reading  further,  he  found  that  the  Earl 
had  issued  the  same  orders  respecting 
Viviana,  and  that  she  would  be  rigorously 
dealt  with  if  captured. 

"  Alas  !"  groaned  Catesby  ;  "  I  hope 
she  will  escape  those  inhuman  butchers." 

The  next  dnspatch  he  opened  was  from 
Tresham,  and  with  a  savage  satisfaction 


he  found  that  the  traitor  was  apprehensive 
of  double-dealing  on  the  part  of  Salisbury 
and  iMounleagle.  He  staled  that  he  had 
been  put  under  arrest,  and  was  detained  a 
prisoner  in  his  own  house;  and,  fearing  be 
siiould  be  sent  to  the  Tower,  besought 
Topcliffe  to  use  his  influence  with  the  Earl 
of  Salisbury  not  to  deal  unfairly  with  him. 

"  He  is  rightly  served!"  cried  Catesby, 
with  savage  exultation.  "  Heaven  grant 
they  may  deal  with  him  as  he  dealt  with 
us." 

The  consideration  of  these  letters  fur- 
nished Catesby  with  food  for  much  bitter 
reflection.  Pacing  the  room  to  and  fro 
with  uncertain  footsteps,  he  remained  more 
than  an  hour  by  himself,  and  at  last  yield- 
ing to  the  promptings  of  vengeance,  re- 
paired to  the  cellar  in  which  he  placed 
Topcliffe,  with  the  intention  of  putting 
him  to  death.  What  was  his  rage  and  ex- 
asperation to  find  both  the  guard  and  the 
prisoner  gone  !  A  door  was  open,  and  it 
was  evident  the  fugitives  had  stolen  to  the 
moat,  and,  swimming  noiselessly  across 
it  in  the  darkness,  had  securely  effected 
their  retreat. 

Fearful  of  exciting  the  alarm  of  his  fol- 
lowers, Catesby  controlled  his  indignation, 
and  said  nothing  of  the  escape  of  the  pri- 
soner to  any  but  bis  confederates,  who  en- 
tirely approved  of  the  policy  of  silence. 
All  continued  on  the  alert  during  the  re- 
mainder of  the  night,  and  no  one  thought 
of  seeking  repose  till  it  was  fully  light,  and 
all  danger  of  a  surprise  at  an  end. 

Day  dawned  late  and  dismally.  The 
fog  that  had  hung  round  the  mansion 
changed  just  before  daybreak  into  driz- 
zling rain,  and  this  increased  ere  long  to 
heavy  and  drenching  showers.  Every- 
thing looked  gloomy  and  depressing,  and 
the  conspirators  were  so  disheartened,  that 
they  avoided  each  other's  regards. 

Catesby  mounted  the  walls  of  the  man- 
sion to  reconnoitre.  The  prospect  was 
forlorn  and  melancholy  to  the  last  degree. 
The  neighbouring  woods  were  obscured 
by  mist;  the  court-yard  and  garden  flooded 
with  rain  ;  and  the  waters  of  the  moat 
spotted  by, the  heavy  shower.  Not  an 
object  was  in  view  except  a  hind  driving 
cattle  to  a  neighbouring  farm.  Catesby 
shouted  to  him,  and  the  fellow  with  evi- 
dent reluctance  approaching  the  brink  of 
the  mofit,  he  inquired  vvhctiier  he  had  seen 
any  troops  in  the  neighbourhood.  The 
man  answered  in  the  negative,  but  said  he 
had  heard  that  an  engagemeut  had  taken 
place  in  the  night,  about  live  miles  from 
thence,  near  Hales  Owen,  between  Sir 
Everard  Digby  and  Sir  IJichard  Walsh, 
and  that  Sir  Everard's  party  had  been  ut- 
terly routed,  and  himself  taken  prisoner. 

This  intellisence  was  a  severe  blow  to 


172 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


Catesby,  as  it  destroyed  tho  last  faint  hope 
he  had  cliinij  to.  For  some  time  he  con- 
tinued wrapi  in  thoiifiht.  and  then  descend- 
ed to  the  lower  part  of  tlie  lionse.  A  larj^e 
fire  had  heen  kept  up  durinir  the  niirhl  in 
the  hall,  and  round  tliis  the  trreater  part  of 
the  band  were  now  fjathered,  dryintr  their 
wet  clothes,  and  conversing  tofrether.  A 
plentiful  breakfast  had  been  served  out  to 
them,  so  that  they  were  in  tolerably  (rood 
spirits,  aud  many  of  them  talked  loudly  of 
the  feats  they  meant  to  perforin  in  case  of 
an  attack. 

Catesby  heard  these  boasts,  but  they  fell 
upon  an  idle  ear.  He  felt  that  all  was  over; 
that  his  last  chance  was  gone;  and  that  the 
strucrorle  could  not  he  much  longer  pro- 
tracted. Entering  the  inner  room,  he  sat 
down  at  talile  with  his  companions,  but 
he  ate  nothing,  and  continued  silent  and 
abstracted. 

"  It  is  now  my  turn  to  reproach  you," 
observed  Grant.  "  You  look  deeply  de- 
pressed." 

"  Sir  Everard  Digby  is  a  prisoner,"  re- 
plied Catesby,  sternly.  "  His  capture 
grieves  me  sorely.  He  should  have  died 
with  us  !" 

All  echoed  the  wish. 

Catesby  arose  and  closed  the  door. 

"The  attack  will  not  be  many  hours 
delayed,"  he  said;  "and  unless  there 
should  be  some  miraculous  interposition 
in  our  behalf,  it  must  end  in  our  defeat. 
Do  not  let  us  survive  it,"  he  continued 
earnestly.  "  Let  us  swear  to  stand  by 
each  other  as  long  as  we  can,  and  to  die 
together." 

"Agreed  !"  cried  the  others, 

"  And  now,"  continued  Catesby,  "  I 
must  compel  myself  to  take  some  nourish- 
ment, for  I  have  much  to  do." 

Having  swallowed  a  few  mouthfuls  of 
bread,  and  drained  a  goblet  of  wine,  he 
again  visited  every  part  of  the  habitation, 
examined  the  arms  of  the  men,  encouraged 
them  by  his  looks  and  words,  and  heca"me 
satisfied,  unless  some  unlooked-for  circum- 
stance occurred  to  damp  their  ardour,  they 
would  offer  a  determined  and  vigorous  re- 
sistance. 

"  If  I  could  only  come  off  victorious  in 
this  last  conflict,  I  should  die  content," 
thought  Catesby.  "  And  I  do  not  despair 
of   it."  ' 

Tiie  rain  continued  till  eleven  o'clock, 
when  it  ceased,  and  the  mist  that  had  at- 
tended it  partially  cleared  off.  About 
noon,  Catesby,  who  was  on  the  look-out 
from  the  walls  of  the  mansion,  descried  a 
large  troop  of  horsemen  issuing  from  the 
wood,  lie  immediately  gave^the  alarm. 
The  bell  was  rung,  and  all  sprang  to  arms. 

Hy  this  time,  the  troop  liad  ^advanced 
within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  house,  and 


Catesby,  who  had  rushed  into  the  court- 
yard, mounted  a  turret  near  the  gate  to 
watch  their  movements,  and  issue  his 
commands.  The  royalists  were  headed 
by  Sir  Kichard  Walsh,  who  was  attended 
on  the  right  by  Sir  John  Foliot,  and  on 
the  left  by  Topcliffe.  Immediately  behind 
them  were  Ketelbye,  Salwaye,  Conyers, 
and  others  who  had  accompanied  ihe  posse 
comilulus  the  day  before.  A  trumpet  was 
then  sounded,  and  a  proclamation  was 
made  in  a  loud  voice  by  a  trooper,  com- 
manding the  rebels  in  the  King's  name  to 
surrender,  and  to  deliver  up  their  leaders. 
The  man  had  scarcely  concluded  his 
speech  when  he  was  forever  silenced  by  a 
shot  from  Catesby. 

A  loud  and  vindictive  shout  was  raised 
by  the  royalists,  and  the  assault  instantly 
commenced.  Sir  Richard  Walsh  directed 
the  attack  against  the  point  opposite  the 
drawbridge,  while  Sir  John  Foliot,  Toji- 
cliffe,  and  the  others  dispersed  themselves, 
and  completely  surrounded  the  mansion. 
Several  planks  were  thrust  across  the 
moat,  and  in  spite  of  all  the  efforts  of  the 
rebels  many  of  the  assailants  effected  a 
passage. 

Calesb}'-  drove  back  the  party  under  Sir 
Richard  Walsh,  and  with  his  own  hand 
hewed  asunder  the  plank.  In  doing  this 
he  so  much  exposed  himself  that,  but  for 
the  injunctions  of  the  sheriff  who  com- 
manded his  followers  not  to  fire  upon  him, 
he  must  have  been  slain. 

The  other  rebel  leaders  displayed  equal 
courage,  and  equal  inditTerence  to  danger, 
and  though,  as  has  just  been  slated,  a  con- 
siderable number  of  royalists  had  got 
across  the  moat,  and  entered  the  garden, 
they  had  obtained  no  material  advantage. 
Sir  John  Foliot  and  Topcliffe  commanded 
this  party,  and  encouraged  them  to  press 
on;  but  such  a  continued  and  well-directed 
firing  was  kept  up  upon  them  from  the 
walls  and  windows  of  the  mansion  that 
they  soon  began  to  show  symptoms  of  wa- 
vering. 

At  this  juncture,  and  while  Topcliffe 
was  trying  to  keep  his  men  together,  a 
concealed  door  in  the  wall  was  opened, 
and  Catesby  issued  from  it  at  the  head  of 
a  dozen  men.  He  instantly  attacked  Top- 
cliffe and  his  band,  put  several  to  the  sword, 
and  drove  those  who  resisted  into  the  moat, 
Foliot  aud  Topcliffe  with  difficulty  escaped 
across  the  plank,  which  was  seized  and 
pulled  over  to  his  own  side  by  Catesby, 

But  the  hope  which  this  success  in- 
spired was  instantly  quenched.  Loud 
sliouts  were  raised  from  the  opposite 
wing  of  the  mansion,  and  Catesby  to  his 
ijreat  dismay  peiceived  from  the  volumes 
of  smoke  ascending  from  it  that  it  was  on 
fire.     Uttering  an  exclamation  of  ratre  and 


GUY     F  A  \V  K  E  S. 


173 


despair,  lie  commanded  those  willi  him  not 
to  quit  their  present  position,  and  set  ot!"  in 
the  direction  of  the  fire. 

He  found  that  an  outbuilding  had  been 
set  in  flames  by  a  lighted  brand  thrown 
across  the  moat  by  a  trooper.  The  author 
of  the  action  was  named  John  Streete,  and 
was  afterwards  rendered  notorious  by  an- 
other feat  to  be  presently  related.  Etforts 
were  made  to  extinguish  thecontlagrration, 
but  such  was  the  confusion  prevailing  that 
it  was  found  wholly  impossible,  and  it  was 
feared  that  the  destruction  of  the  whole 
mansion  would  ensue. 

Disaster  after  disaster  followed.  An- 
other party  had  crossed  the  moat,  and 
burst  into  the  court-yard.  In  the  despe- 
rate conflict  that  ensued  Rookwood  was 
shot  through  the  arm,  and  severely  wound- 
ed by  a  pike,  and  was  borne  into  the  house 
by  one  of  his  followers,  whom  he  entreat- 
ed to  kill  him  outright,  but  was  refused 
the  request. 

Meantime,  the  drawbridge  was  lowered, 
and  with  loud  and  exiihing  shouts  the 
great  body  of  the  royalists  crossed  it. 
Catesby  now  perceived  that  the  day  was 
irretrievably  lost.  Calling  to  Christopher 
Wright,  who  was  standing  near  him,  to 
follow  him,  and  rushing  towards  the  court- 
yard, he  reached  it  just  as  the  royalists 
entered  it. 

In  numbers  both  parties  were  pretty 
well  matched,  but  the  rebels  were  now 
thoroughly  disheartened,  and  seeing  how 
matters  must  end,  many  of  them  threw 
down  their  arms,  and  begged  for  mercy. 
A  destructive  fire,  however,  was  still  kept 
up  on  the  royalists  by  a  few  of  the  rebels 
stationed  on  the  walls  of  the  mansion,  un- 
der the  command  of  John  Wright. 

Putting  himself  at  the  head  of  a  few 
faithful  followers,  Catesby  fought  with  all 
the  fury  of  despair.  Christopher  Wright 
was  shot  by  his  side.  Grant  instantly 
sprang  forward,  but  was  cut  down  by  a 
trooper.  Catesby  was  too  busily  occupied 
to  attend  to  the  fate  of  his  companions, 
and  seeing  Thomas  Winter  near  him, 
called  to  him  to  come  on,  when  he  per- 
ceived that  his  right  arm  was  disabled 
by  a  bolt  from  a  cross-bow. 

"  I  can  fight  no  longer,"  said  Thomas 
Winter. 

"Then  die,"  cried  Catesby. 

"He  shall  die— on  the  scaffold,"  rejoined 
Topcliffe,  who  had  heard  the  exclama- 
tion. And  rushing  up  to  Thomas  Winter, 
he  seized  him,  and  conveyed  him  to  the 
rear  of  his  |)ariy. 

Catesby  continued  to  fight  with  such 
determined  bravery  that  Sir  Richard  Walsh 
seeing  it  would  be  vain  to  take  him  alive, 
withdrew  his  restrictions  from  liis  men, 
and  ordered  them  to  slay  him. 


By  this  time,  most  of  the  rebels  had 
thrown  down  their  arms.  Those  on  the 
walls  had  been dislodgfed,  and  John  Wrio-ht 
refusing  to  yield,  had  been  slaughtered. 
Catesby,  however,  who  had  been  joined 
by  Percy  and  half  a  dozen  men,  made  a 
last  desperate  charge  upon  the  enemy. 

In  doing  this,  his  sword  shivered,  and 
he  would  have  fallen  back,  but  found  him- 
self surrounded  by  his  foes.  Percy  was 
close  behind  him,  and  keeping  together, 
they  fought  back  to  back.  Even  in  this 
disabled  state  they  made  a  long  and  des- 
perate resistance. 

"  Remember  your  oath,  Percy,"  cried 
Catesby.  "  You  have  sworn  not  to  be 
taken  to  the  scaffold." 

"Fear  nothing,"  replied  Percy.  "I 
will  never  quit  this  spot  alive." 

The  words  were  scarcely  out  of  his 
mouth  when  he  fell  to  the  ground  mortally 
wounded,  and  the  same  shot  that  had 
pierced  his  breast  had  likewise  stricken 
Catesby.  It  was  fired  by  the  trooper, 
John  Streete,  who  has  just  been  men- 
tioned. 

Collecting  all  his  force,  Catesby  struck 
a  few  terrible  blows  at  his  opponents,  and, 
dashing  through  them,  made  for  the  house. 
Just  as  he  reached  the  door,  which  was 
standing  open,  his  strength  failed,  and  he 
fell  to  the  ground.  In  this  condition  he 
dragged  himself  into  the  vestibule,  where 
there  was  a  large  wooden  statue  of  the 
Virgin,  and  clasping  his  arms  around  it 
pressed  his  lips  to  the  feet  of  the  image. 
He  was  followed  by  Streete,  with  his  drawn 
sword  in  one  hand  and  a  petronel  in  the 
other,  prepared  to  finish  his  work.  But 
ere  he  could  reach  him,  Catesby  had  ex- 
pired. 

"So,"  exclaimed  Topcliffe,  who  came 
np  the  next  moment,  with  Sir  Richard 
VValsh,  "  we  have  been  robbed  of  our 
prey.  The  Earl  of  Salisbury  will  never 
forgive  me  for  this  disappointment." 

"I  am  glad  I  have  done  it,  though," 
observed  Streete.  "  To  kill  two  such 
traitors  with  one  shot  is  something  to  talk 
of." 

"Yon  will  be  well  rewarded  for  it,  no 
doubt,"  said  Topclitfe,  sarcastically. 

"  I  care  not  whether  I  am  or  not,"  re- 
joined Streete.  "  I  have  done  my  duty, 
and  besides  I  have  avenged  my  comrade 
Richard  Trueman,  who  was  shot  by  this 
traitor  when  he  read  the  proclamation." 

"  I  will  take  care  that  your  brave  action 
is  duly  represented  to  his  Majesty,"  ob- 
served Sir  Richard  Walsh. 

And  he  failed  not  to  keep  his  promise. 
Stioete  received  a  pension  of  two  shillings 
a  day  for  the  rest  of  his  life — no  incon- 
siderable sum  in  those  days. 

The   conflict  was   now  at  an  end,   for 


174 


GUY     FAWKES. 


thoush  some  few  of  the  more  desperate  of 
the  rebels  continued  to  struggle  after  their 
leaders  had  fallen,  they  were  soon  dis- 
armed. Sir  Richard  Walsh  and  Topcliffe 
went  in  search  of  the  other  conspirators, 
and  finding  liookwood  and  Grant,  who 
though  severely  wounded  were  not  dead, 
lyino-  in  tlie  hall,  immediately  secured 
them.  Rookwood  on  their  approach  made 
an  effort  to  plunge  his  dagger  into  his 
breast,  but  his  hand  was  stayed  by  Sir 
Richard  Walsh. 

"  At  least,  we  shall  not  go  away  quite 
empty-handed,"  cried  Topcliffe;  "  but 
these  are  but  sorry  substitutes  for  Cates- 
by." 

"  Has  Catesby  escaped?"  demanded 
Grant,  faintly. 

"  Ay,  to  the  other  world,"  replied  Top- 
clifTe. 

"  He  has  kept  his  word,"  groaned  Grant. 

"  He  may  have  escaped  some  part  of  his 
punishment,"  said  Topcliffe,  bitterly;  "but 


the  worst  remains.  His  quarters  will  be 
exposed  on  every  gate  in  London,  and  his 
head  on  the  bridge.  As  to  you,  traitors, 
you  know  your  doom." 

"  And  are  prepared  for  it,"  rejoined 
Grant. 

A  guard  being  left  over  the  prisoners, 
Sir  Richard  Walsh  and  Topcliffe  then 
went  to  see  that  the  other  captives  were 
properly  secured.  Some  few  having  made 
their  escape  into  the  adjoining  fields,  they 
were  pursued  and  recaptured. 

The  whole  of  the  prisoners  were  then 
conveyed  to  Stourbridge,  where  they  were 
lodged  in  the  gaol,  after  which  Sir  Richard 
Walsh  despatched  a  messenger  to  the  Earl 
of  Salisbury  and  the  Lords  of  the  Council 
acquainting  them  with  what  he  had  done. 

"And  now,"  said  Topcliffe,  who  had 
accompanied  him  th\is  far,  "I  shall  start 
for  Ordsall  Hall  to  look  after  Viviana 
Radcliile  and  Garnet." 


CHAPTER  VI. 


HAGLEY. 


Robert  Winter,  it  may  be  remembered, 
immediately  after  the  explosion,  quitted 
Holbeach,  and  did  not  return  to  it.  He 
proceeded  to  the  neighbouring  thicket,  and 
while  wandering  about  in  a  state  border- 
ing on  distraction  encountered  Stephen 
Littleton,  who  had  likewise  deserted  his 
companions  on  the  same  day.  Acquaint- 
ing him  with  the  disastrous  occurrence 
that  had  taken  place,  and  stating  his  im- 
pression that  both  God  and  man  were 
against  them,  and  that  it  would  be  vain  as 
well  as  impious  to  struggle  longer,  he  pro- 
posed to  him  to  surrender;  but  Stephen 
Littleton  so  strongly  combated  this  opin- 
ion, that  he  at  last  consented  to  make  an 
effort  to  escape.  This,  however,  was  no 
easy  matter,  and  they  could  devise  no  plan 
that  appeared  feasible.  Both  were  well 
provided  with  money;  but  under  present 
circumstances  it  would  be  of  little  use  to 
them.  A  large  price  was  set  on  their 
heads;  and  the  whole  country  being  alarm- 
ed, they  scarcely  knew  where  to  seek 
shelter.  After  a  long  debate,  they  quitted 
the  covert,  and  keeping  clear  of  all  habita- 
tions, took  the  direction  of  Stourbridge. 

On  approaching  the  Slour,  at  a  point 
opposite  Churchill,  where  they  knew  the 
river  was  fordable,  they  perceived  Sir 
Richard  Walsh's  force  approaching,  and 
threw  themselves  into  a  ditch  to  avoid  ob- 
servation.    It  was  quite  dark  when  they 


again  ventured  forth,  and  at  the  peril  of 
their  lives  they  forded  the  Stour,  which 
was  swollen  more  than  it  had  been  in  the 
morning  by  the  long-continued  rain.  Their 
design  was  to  proceed  to  Hagley,  the  re- 
sidence of  Stephen  Littleton's  sister,  Mrs. 
Littleton,  and  to  claim  her  protection.  This 
magnificent  mansion  lay  about  two  miles 
on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  in  the  heart 
of  an  extensive  park,  but  they  were  obliged 
to  take  a  circuitous  route  of  nearly  double 
the  distance  to  reach  it,  and  when  at  length 
they  arrived  there,  and  were  about  to  steal 
into  the  court-yard,  they  found  it  occupied 
by  a  part  of  Sir  Richard  Walsh's  troop. 

Overcome  by  anxiety  and  fatigue,  and 
scarcely  knowing  whither  to  proceed,  they 
recrossed  the  park,  and  sought  out  the  cot- 
tage of  a  poor  woman,  whose  two  sons 
had  joined  their  ill-fated  expedition,  and 
were  at  that  moment  under  arms  at  Hol- 
beach. She  was  a  good  Catholic,  and 
they  thought  they  might  confide  in  her. 
Arriving  at  her  cottage,  they  glanced  in 
at  the  window,  and  perceiving  her  as  they 
concluded  alone,  and  cooking  a  small  piece 
of  meat  at  the  fire,  they  raised  the  latch, 
and  entered  the  house.  The  woman  turn- 
ed at  their  approach,  and  uttering  a  cry  of 
surprise  and  alarm,  pointed  towards  a  back 
room.  They  then  saw  that  they  had  be- 
trayed themselves,  but  the  caution  came 
too  late,  and  a  stalwart  trooper,  alarmed 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


175 


by  the  cry,  issued  from  the  back  room. 
From  the  wretched  appearance  of  the  new 
comers,  he  at  once  guessed  that  they  were 
rebels,  and  felt  satisfied  from  the  richness 
of  therr  garb,  dirtied  and  stained  as  it  was, 
that  they  were  persons  of  consequence. 
Accordingly,  he  drew  a  brace  of  petronels, 
and  holding  them  at  their  heads,  com- 
manded them  to  surrender. 

They  were  too  much  taken  by  surprise, 
and  too  enfeebled  to  offer  resistance,  and 
the  trooper  calling  to  the  old  woman  to 
bring  a  cord  to  bind  them,  at  the  same 
time  unloosed  his  own  girdle,  with  which 
he  fastened  Robert  Winter's  arms  behind 
his  back.  In  doing  this,  be  was  com- 
pelled to  lay  down  his  petronels,  and  he 
had  scarcely  done  so  when  the  woman 
snatched  them  up,  and  gave  them  to  Ste- 
phen Littleton,  who  presented  them  at  his 
head. 

It  was  now  the  turn  of  the  conspirators 
to  triumph.  In  another  instant  Robert 
Winter  was  released  by  the  old  woman, 
and  the  pair  throwing  themselves  upon  the 
trooper,  forced  him  to  the  ground.  They 
then  dragged  him  to  the  back  room,  and 
stripped  him  of  his  habiliments,  which 
Stephen  Littleton  put  on  instead  of  his 
own  clothes,  and  bmding  him  hand  and 
foot  returned  to  the  old  woman.  At  the 
request  of  Robert  Winter,  she  furnished 
him  with  a  suit  of  clothes  belonging  to 
one  of  her  sons,  and  then  set  before  them 
the  best  eatables  she  possessed.  They 
were  ravenously  hungry,  and  soon  dis- 
posed of  the  viands.  Meanwhile,  their 
hostess  told  them  that  the  whole  country 
was  in  arms  against  them;  that  Mrs.  Lit- 
tleton being  suspected,  though  she  had 
always  been  adverse  to  the  design,  her 
house  had  undergone  a  rigorous  search; 
but  that  Mr.  Humphrey  Littleton,  not  hav- 
ing taken  any  part  in  the  insurrection,  had 
not  as  yet  been  arrested,  though  it  was 
feared  he  would  be  proved  to  be  connect- 
ed with  the  plot.  She  concluded  by 
strongly  counselling  them  to  use  the 
utmost  caution,  and  to  expose  themselves 
as  little  as  possible.  This  they  told  her 
they  intended  to  do,  and  expressed  great 
anxiety  as  lo  what  would  befall  her  when 
they  were  gone. 

'•  I  do  not  desire  to  shed  blood,  if  it  can 
be  helped,"  said  Stephen  Littleton;  "but 
in  a  case  of  necessity  like  the  present, 
where  life  must  be  weighed  against  life,  I 
hold  it  to  be  lawful.  Shall  we  put  the 
trooper  to  death?" 

"  Not  unless  your  own  safety  requires 
it,  good  sirs,"  she  said.  "  1  shall  quit  this 
cottage  soon  after  you  have  left  it,  and  ob- 
tain a  safe  asylum  with  one  of  my  neigh- 
bours. It  matters  not  what  becomes  of 
me.     Having  lost  my  two  sons,  for  I  con- 

16 


sider  them  as  already  dead,  I  have  nothing 
left  to  bind  me  to  life." 

Unable  to  make  any  reply,  the  conspi- 
rators remained  for  some  time  silent,  when 
by  the  poor  woman's  advice,  they  with- 
drew to  an  upper  chamber,  and  stretching 
themselves  on  a  bed  sought  a  few  hours 
repose.  The  old  woman  kept  watch  be- 
low, and  they  gave  her  one  of  the  petro- 
nels, with  strict  injunctions  to  blow  out 
the  trooper's  brains  if  he  attempted  to 
move.  Nothing,  however,  o(;curred  to 
alarm  her,  and  at  three  o'clock  she  awa- 
kened them. 

Offering  the  woman  a  handsome  reward, 
which,  however,  she  declined,  they  then 
set  out;  and  shortly  afterwards  their  host- 
ess quitted  her  habitation,  and  withdrew 
to  the  cottage  of  a  neighbour,  where  she 
remained  concealed  for  some  weeks,  and 
then  died  of  grief  on  learning  that  her 
sons  had  been  slain  during  the  assault  of 
Holbeach  by  the  royalists. 

Recruited  by  the  rest  they  had  enjoyed, 
the  conspirators  pursued  their  course  over 
the  fields.  The  weather  was  the  same  as 
that  which  disheartened  their  confederates 
at  Holbeach,  and  the  rain  fell  so  heavily 
that  they  had  soon  not  a  dry  thread  upon 
them.  But  being  now  disguised,  they 
were  not  under  so  much  apprehension  of 
detection.  Shaping  their  course  towards 
Rowley  Regis,  in  SlafTordshire,  which  lay 
about  five  miles  from  Hagley,  where  a 
farmer  named  Pelborrow,  a  tenant  of 
Humphrey  Littleton,  resided,  and  who 
they  thought  would  befriend  them,  they 
proceeded  swiftly  on  their  way;  but, 
though  well  acquainted  with  the  country, 
they  were  so  bewildered  and  deceived  by 
the  fog,  that  they  strayed  materially  out  of 
iheir  course,  and  when  it  grew  light, 
found  themselves  near  Weoley  Castle,  and 
about  four  miles  from  Birmingham. 

Confiding  in  their  disguises,  and  in 
their  power  of  sustaining  the  characters 
they  assumed,  they  got  into  the  high  road, 
and  approaching  a  farm-house,  Stephen 
Littleton,  who  had  tied  his  companion's 
arms  behind  him  with  his  belt,  represent- 
ed himself  as  a  trooper  conveying  a  pri- 
soner from  Stourbridge  to  Birmingham, 
and  in  consequence  of  this  obtained  a 
breakfast  from  the  farmer.  After  their 
meal  was  over,  the  host,  who  had  eyed 
them  suspiciously,  observed  to  the  sup- 
posed trooper — 

"  You  will  overtake  some  of  your  com- 
rades before  you  reach  Egbaston,  and  had 
better  lose  no  time  in  joining  them.  You 
are  known  to  me,  my  masters,"  he  added, 
in  a  tone  that  could  .not  be  heard  by  the 
household;  "  but  I  will  not  betray  you. 
Get  you  gone." 

The  conspiratQis  did  not  fail  to  act  upon 


176 


GUY     FAWKES. 


the  suofsrestion,  and  as  soon  as  they  got 
out  of  siatit,  struck  across  the  country  in 
in  the  direclion  of  Rowley  Regis,  and  ar- 
rived at  the  farm-house  which  was  their 
destination,  in  about  an  hour. 

Pelborrow  chanced  to  be  in  a  barn  ad- 
joinino"  liis  house,  and  alone,  and  on  see- 
ing iheni  readily  offered  to  hide  them.  No 
one  had  noticed  their  approach,  and  care- 
fully concealing  them  amid  the  hay  in  the 
loft,  he  proceeded  about  his  business  as  if 
nothing  had  happened.  He  could  not  just 
then  procure  them  provisions  without  ex- 
citing suspicion,  but  when  night  arrived, 
brougiit  them  a  sufficient  supply  for  the 
next  day. 

In  this  way  they  passed  nearly  a  week, 
never  venturing  to  stir  forth,  for  they  had 
been  traced  to  the  neighbourhood,  and 
constant  search  was  going  on  after  them. 
Pelborrow  had  great  (iilTiculty  in  kee|)ing 
his  men  out  of  the  barn,  and  the  disap- 
pearance of  the  provisions  excited  the  sus- 
picions of  his  female  domestics,  vvho  be- 
gan to  think  all  was  not  right.  He  there- 
fore intimated  to  the  conspirators  that 
they  must  change  their  quarters,  and  in 
the  dead  of  the  night  they  removed  to  the 
house  of  another  farmer  named  Perke-s, 
residing  on  the  borders  of  Hagley  Park, 
to  whom  Pelborrow  had  confided  the  se- 
cret of  their  being  in  the  neighbourhood, 
and  w  ho,  on  the  promise  of  a  large  re- 
ward, readily  undertook  to  secrete  them. 

Peikes  met  them  at  a  little  distance 
from  his  house,  and  conducted  them  to  a 
barley-mow,  where  he  had  contrived  a 
hiding-place  amid  the  straw  for  them.  A 
woman-servant  and  a  man  were  both  let 
into  the  secret  by  Perkes,  and  a  sum  of 
money  given  him  for  that  purpose  bribed 
them  to  silence.  Here  they  remained 
close  prisoners,  unable  to  stir  forth,  or 
even  to  change  their  habiliments  for  near- 
ly six  weeks,  during  which  time  they  re- 
ceived constant  intelligence  from  their 
protector  of  what  was  going  forward,  and 
learnt  that  the  search  for  them  had  not 
relaxed.  They  were  not  without  hope, 
however,  that  the  worst  was  over,  when 
an  incident  occurred  that  gave  them  seri- 
ous uneasiness. 

One  night  Perkes,  who  was  a  stout, 
hale  yeoman,  and  had  formerly  been  war- 
rener  to  Mrs.  Littleton,  went  to  catch  co- 
nies, with  a  contpanion  named  Poynter, 
and  riiurned  laden  with  spoil.  After 
drinking  a  cup  or  two  of  ale  together,  the 
pair  separated,  and  Poynter  feeling  fatigued 
with  his  exertions,  as  well  as  drowsy  with 
the  ale  he  had  swallowed,  deteruiined  to 
pass  the  night  in  his  friend's  barn,  and 
enterir.g  it  clambered  up  to  the  loft,  and 
laid  himself  in  the  ^iraw.  In  doing  tl;is, 
he  slipped  iuty  tlie  hole  made  for  the  con- 


spirators, who,  aroused  by  his  fall,  instant- 
ly seized  hirn.  Terrified  to  death,  and 
fancying  he  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of 
gipsies  or  other  plunderers,  Poynter  roared 
for  mercy,  which  they  were  not  at  first 
disposed  to  show  him;  but  the  poor  wretch 
finding  into  whose  hands  he  had  fallen, 
besought  them  in  such  piteous  terms  to 
spare  his  life,  affirming  with  the  strongest 
oaths  that  he  would  never  betray  them, 
that  they  consented  to  spare  him,  on  con- 
dition of  his  remaining  with  them  as  long 
as  they  should  occupy  their  place  of  con- 
cealment. 

When  Perkes  appeared  in  the  morning, 
he  was  not  a  little  surprised  at  finding  his 
comrade  caught  in  such  a  trap,  but  entire- 
ly approved  of  the  course  taken  by  the 
cons|)irators.  Poynter,  as  may  be  sup- 
posed, was  no  willing  captive;  and  being 
constantly  pondering  on  the  means  of 
escape,  and  of  obtaining  the  reward  for 
the  apprehension  of  the  conspirators,  at 
last  hit  upon  the  following  expedient. 
While  engaged  in  the  poaching  expedition 
with  Perkes,  he  had  received  a  slight 
wound  in  the  leg,  and  the  close  confine- 
ment to  which  he  was  now  subjected,  in- 
flamed it  to  such  a  degree  as  to  render  it 
highly  dangerous.  This  he  represented 
to  the  conspirators,  who,  however,  would 
not  suffer  him  to  dejiart;  but  desired 
Perkes  to  bring  him  some  ointment  to 
dress  his  wound.  'I'he  request  was  com- 
plied with,  and  feigning  that  it  was  neces- 
sary to  approach  the  light  to  apply  it, 
Poynter  scrambled  up  the  straw,  appa- 
rently for  that  sole  purpose.  He  did  not 
attempt  to  fly  for  several  days;  but  at  last, 
when  they  were  grown  less  suspicious,  he 
slided  down  the  other  side  of  the  loft,  and 
made  good  his  retreat. 

The  conspirators  saw  the  error  they  had 
committed  when  it  was  too  late.  Not 
daring  to  pursue  him,  they  remained  in 
fearful  anticipation  of  an  arrest  throughout 
the  day.  But  they  were  not  disturbed 
until  night,  when  Perkes  made  his  appear- 
ance. They  told  him  what  had  happen- 
ed; but  he  did  not  appear  to  be  nmch 
alarmed. 

"  I  do  not  think  you  need  be  afraid  of 
him,"  he  said.  "Let  me  have  some 
mone)',  and  1  will  go  in  quest  of  him  at 
once,  and  will  bribe  him  to  silence." 

"  Here  are  fifty  marks,"  replied  Ste- 
phen Littleton.  "  If  that  is  not  enough, 
take  more." 

"  It  will  amply  suffice,"  replied  Perkes. 
"  I  will  answer  for  his  silence." 

This  assurance  greatly  relieved  the  con- 
spirators, and  they  were  made  completely 
easy  by  the  nHurn  of  Perkes  in  less  than 
I  an  hour  afterwards,  who  told  them  he  had 
I  seen  Poynter,  and  liad  given  him  the  mo- 


GUY    FAWKES. 


177 


ney,  binding  him  by  the  most  solemn  oaths 
not  to  betray  them. 

♦'I  have  still  better  news  for  you,  my 
masters,"  he  added.  "  Mrs.  Littleton  has 
set  out  for  London  to-day;  and  1  have  re- 
ceived orders  from  Mr.  Humphrey  Little- 
ton to  bring  you  to  the  hall   at  midnijrhi." 

This  last  intelligenoe  completed  their 
satisfaction,  and  they  awaited  PerUes's  re- 
turn with  impatience.  Shortly  before  mid- 
night, became  to  summon  them,  and  they 
set  forth  together.  Perkes's  house  lay 
about  a  mile  from  the  hall,  and  they  soon 
entered  the  park.  The  night  was  clear  and 
frosty — it  was  now  the  middle  of  Decem- 
ber— and  as  the  conspirators  trod  the  crisp 
sod,  and  gazed  at  the  nohle  but  leafless 
trees  around  them,  they  silently  returned 
thanks  to  Heaven  for  their  restoration  to 
freedom.  Humphrey  Littleton  was  waiting 
for  them  at  the  end  of  an  avenue  near  the 
mansion,  and  tenderly  embraced  them. 

Tears  of  joy  were  shed  on  both  sides, 
and  it  seemed  to  Humphrey  Littleton  as 
if  his  brother  had  been  restored  from  the 
grave.  Dismissing  Perkes  with  warm 
thanks,  and  promises  of  a  further  recom- 
pense, they  then  entered  the  house  by  a 
window  which  had  been  left  purposely 
open.  Humphrey  Littleton  conducted 
them  to  his  own  chamber,  where  fresh  ap- 
parel was  provided  for  them,  and  to  poor 
wretches  who  had  not  been  able  to  put  off 
their  attire  for  so  long  a  period,  the  luxury 
of  the  change  was  indescribably  great. 

The  arrival  of  the  prisoners  was  kept 
secret  frorn  all  the  household  except  the 
man-cook,  John  Ocklie,  upon  whose  fide- 
lity Humphrey  Littleton  thought  he  could 
rely.  A  good  supper  was  prepared  by 
this  man,  and  brought  up  into  his  mas- 
ter's chamber,  where  the  conspirators 
were  now  seated  before  a  hearth  heaped 
with  blazing  logs.  The  conspirators  need- 
ed no  solicitation  to  fall  to,  and  they  did 
ample  Justice  to  the  good  things  before 
them.  His  spirits  being  raised  by  the 
good  cheer,  Robert  Winter  observed  to 
the  cook,  who  was  in  attendance  upon 
them, 

"Ah!  Jack,  thy  mistress  little  thinks 
what  guests  are  now  in  her  house,  who 
have  neither  seen  fire  nor  tasted  a  hot 
morsel  for  well-nigh  two  months. 

"Ay,  it  is  a  sad  matter,"  returned  the 
cook,  shaking  his  he?id,  "  and  1  wish  1 
could  offer  your  worships  a  flask  of  wine, 
or  a  cup  of  stout  ale  at  the  least.  But 
the  butler  is  in  bed,  and  if  I  were  to  rouse 
him  at  this  hour  it  might  excite  his  suspi- 
cion. If  you  are  willing,  sir,"  he  added 
to  Humphrey  Littleton,  '•  I  will  hie  to  my 
mother's  cottage  in  the  park,  and  bring  ii 
jug  of  ale  from  her." 

This  was  agreed   to,  and  the  cook  left 


the  house.  His  sole  object,  however,  was 
to  instruct  his  mother  to  give  the  alarm, 
so  that  the  conspirators  might  be  arrested 
before  morning. 

On  reaching  her  cottage,  he  was  sur- 
prised to  see  a  light  within  it,  and  two 
men  there,  one  of  whom  was  Poynter,  and 
the  other  Mrs.  Littleton's  steward,  Robert 
Hszlewood.  Poynter  had  acquainted  Ha- 
zlewood  with  all  he  knew  respecting 
the  conspirators,  supposing  them  still  in 
the  barley-mow,  and  they  were  discussing 
the  best  means  of  arresting  them,  when 
the  cook  entered  the  house. 

"The  birds  are  flown,"  he  said,  "as 
you  will  find,  if  you  search  the  nest.  But 
come  to  the  hall  with  a  sufficient  force  be- 
times to-morrow  morning,  and  1  will  show 
you  where  to  find  them.  1  shall  claim, 
however,  my  share  of  the  reward,  though 
I  must  not  appear  in  the  matter." 

Having  fully  arranged  their  plr.n,  he 
procured  the  ale  from  his  mother,  and  re- 
turned to  the  ball.  The  conspirators  soon 
disposed  of  the  jug,  threw  themselves  on 
the  conch  in  the  room,  and  instantly  drop- 
ping asleep,  enjoyed  such  repose  as  only 
falls  to  the  lot  of  those  who  have  similarly 
suffered.  And  it  was  well  they  did  sleep 
soundly,  for  it  was  the  last  tranquil  night 
they  ever  enjoyed. 

Humphrey  Littleton,  who,  as  has  been 
stated,  reposed  implicit  confidence  in  the 
cook,  had  committed  the  key  of  the  cham- 
ber to  him,  strictly  enjoining  him  to  call 
them  in  the  morning;  and  the  fellow,  feel- 
ing secure  of  his  prey,  retired  to  rest. 

About  seven  o'clock,  he  burst  siiddeiilv 
into  the  room,  and  with  a  countenance  of 
well-feigned  alarm,  which  struck  terror 
into  the  breasts  of  the  conspirators,  cried, 

"  Master  Hazlewood  and  the  officers 
are  below,  and  say  they  must  search  the 
house.     Poynter  is  with  them." 

"The  villain  has  betrayed  us,"  cried 
Stephen  Littleton.  "Fools  that  we  were 
to  spare  his  life." 

"  There  is  no  use  in  lamenting  your  in- 
discretion now,  sir,"  replied  the  cnok, 
"  leave  it  to  me,  and  I  will  yet  effect  your 
escape." 

"  We  place  ourselves  entirely  in  your 
hands,"  said  Stephen  Littleton. 

"  Go  down  stairs,  sir,"  said  the  cook, 
"and  hold  Master  Hazlewood  in  conver- 
sation for  a  few  minutes,  and  I  will  en- 
gage to  get  the  gentlemen  safely  out  of 
th(^  house." 

Humphrey  Littleton  obeyed,  and  de- 
scending to  the  steward,  told  him  he  was 
willing  to  conduct  him  to  every  room  in 
the  house. 

"  1  am  certain  they  are  iiere,  and  shall 
not  quit  it  till  1  find  them,"  rejoined  Hazle- 
wood.    "  Ah!"  he  exclaimed,  as  if  struck 


178 


GUY     FAWKES, 


by  a  sadden  thought,  "  you  say  they  are 
not  in  the  house.  Perhaps  they  are  in  the 
garden — in  the  summer-house.  We  will 
go  and  see." 

So  sayincr,  he  took  half  a  dozen  of  his 
men  with  him,  leaving  Poynter  and  the 
rest  with  Humplirey  Littleton,  who  was 
quite  perplexed  at  his  conduct. 

Meanwhile,  the  cook  led  the  two  con- 
spirators  along    the    gallery,   and    from 


thence  down  a  back  staircase,  which 
brought  them  to  a  small  door  communicat- 
ing with  the  garden.  A  few  seconds  were 
lost  in  opening  it,  and  when  they  issued 
forth  they  encountered  Hazlewood  and  his 
men,  who  instantly  arrested  them.  The 
unfortunate  conspirators  were  conveyed 
under  a  strong  guard  to  London,  where 
they  were  committed  to  the  Tower,  to 
take  their  trial  with  their  confederates. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


VIVIANA'S  LAST  NIGHT  AT  ORDSALL  HALL. 


On  the  evening  of  the  third  day  after 
quitting  Dunchurch,  Viviana  Radclitre  and 
her  companions  arrived  at  Ordsall  Hall. 
They  had  encountered  many  dangers  and 
difficulties  on  the  journey,  and  were  well- 
nigh  overcome  with  fatigue  and  anxiety. 
Fearful  of  heing  detained.  Garnet  had 
avoided  all  the  larger  towns  in  the  way, 
and  had  consequently  been  driven  greall}' 
out  of  the  direct  course.  He  had  assumed 
the  disguise  which  he  usually  wore  when 
travelling,  that  of  a  lawyer,  and  as  he  pos- 
sessed great  mimetic  talent,  he  sustained 
the  character  admirably.  Viviana  passed 
for  his  daughter,  and  his  servant,  Nicholas 
Owen,  who  was  almost  as  clever  an  actor 
as  his  master,  represented  his  clerk,  while 
the  two  attendants  performed  the  parts  of 
clients.  At  Abbots'-Bromley,  where  they 
halted  for  refreshment  on  the  second  day, 
having  spent  the  night  at  a  small  village 
near  Lichfield,  they  were  detained  by  the 
landlord,  who  entertained  some  suspicions 
of  them;  but  Garnet  succeeded  in  frighten- 
ing the  man  into  allowing  them  to  depart. 
They  underwent  another  alarm  of  the  same 
kind  at  Leek,  and  were  for  two  hours  locked 
up.  But  on  the  arrival  of  a  magistrate, 
who  had  been  sent  for  by  the  host.  Garnet 
gave  so  plausible  an  account  of  himself 
that  the  party  were  instantly  set  at  liberty, 
and  arrived  without  further  molestation  at 
their  journey's  end. 

Viviana's  last  visit  to  the  hall  had  been 
sad  enough,  but  it  was  not  so  sad  as  the 
present.  Itwasadull  November  evening, 
and  the  wind  moaned  dismally  through  the 
trees,  scattering  the  yellow  leaves  on  the 
ground.  The  house  looked  forlorn  and 
desolate.  No  smoke  issued  from  the  chim- 
neys, nor  was  there  any  external  indication 
that  it  was  inhabited.  The  drawbridge 
was  down,  and  as  tiiey  passed  over  it,  the 
hollow  trampling  of  their  steeds  upon  the 
planks  vibrated  painfully  upon  Viviana's 


heart.  Before  dismounting,  she  cast  a 
wistful  look  around,  and  surveyed  the 
grass-grown  and  neglected  court,  where, 
in  years  gone  by,  she  had  sported;  the 
moat  on  whose  brink  she  had  lingered;  and 
the  surrounding  woods,  which  she  had 
never  looked  upon,  even  on  a  dreary  day 
like  the  present,  and  when  they  were  rob- 
bed in  some  measure  of  their  beauty,  with- 
out delight.  Scanning  the  deserted  man- 
sion from  roof  to  foundation,  she  traced  all 
its  gables,  angles,  windows,  doors,  and 
walls,  and  claimed  every  piece  of  carved 
work,  every  stone  as  a  familiar  object,  and 
as  associated  with  other  and  happier  hours. 

"  It  is  but  the  wreck  of  what  it  was," 
she  thought.  "The  spirit  that  animated 
it  is  fled.  Grass  grows  in  its  courts — no 
cheerful  voices  echo  in  its  chambers — no 
hospitality  is  maintained  in  its  hall — but 
neglect,  gloom,  and  despair  claim  it  as 
their  own.  The  habitation  and  its  mistress 
are  well  matched." 

Guessing  from  the  melancholy  expres- 
sion of  her  countenance  what  was  passing 
within,  and  thinking  it  advisable  to  turn 
the  current  of  her  thoughts.  Garnet  assisted 
her  to  alight,  and  committing  the  care  of 
their  steeds  to  Owen  and  the  others,  pro- 
ceeded with  her  to  the  principal  entrance. 
Everything  appeared  in  nearly  the  same 
state  as  when  they  had  last  seen  it,  and  the 
only  change  that  had  taken  place  was  for 
the  worse.  The  ceilings  were  mapped  and 
mildewed  with  damps;  the  once-gorgeously 
stained  glass  was  shivered  in  the  windows; 
ihe  costly  arras  hung  in  tattered  fragments 
from  the  walls;  while  the  floors,  which 
were  still  strewn  with  plaster  and  broken 
furniture,  were  flooded  with  the  moisture 
that  had  found  its  way  through  the  holes 
in  the  roof. 

"  Bear  up,  dear  daughter,"  said  Garnet, 
observing  that  Viviana  was  greatly  dis- 
tressed by  the  sight,  "  and  let  ihe  contem- 


GUY    FAWKES. 


179 


plation  of  this  scene  of  havoc,  instead  of 
casting  you  down,  inspire  you  with  just 
indignation  against  enemies  from  whom  it 
is  vain  to  expect  justice  or  mercy.  How- 
many  Catholic  mansions  have  been  thus 
laid  waste!  How  many  high-born  and 
honourable  men,  whose  sole  fault  was 
their  adherence  to  the  religion  of  their 
fathers,  and  their  refusal  to  subscribe  to 
doctrines  against  which  their  consciences 
revolted,  have  been  but  to  death  like  your 
father;  nay,  have  endured  a  worse  fate, 
for  they  have  languished  out  their  lives  in 
prison,  while  their  families  and  retainers 
have  undergone  every  species  of  outrage! 
How  many  a  descendant  of  a  proud  line, 
distinguished  for  worth,  for  loyalty,  and 
for  devotion,  has  stood,  as  you  now  stand, 
upon  his  desolate  hearth — has  seen  misery 
and  ruin  usurp  the  place  of  comfort  and 
happiness — and  has  heard  the  very  stones 
beneath  his  feet  cry  out  for  vengeance. 
Accursed  be  our  oppressors!"  he  added, 
lifting  up  his  hands,  and  elevating  his 
voice.  "  May  their  churches  be  thrown 
down — their  faith  crushed — their  rights 
invaded — their  children  delivered  to  bond- 
age— their  hearths  laid  waste,  as  ours 
have  been.  May  this,  and  worse  come  to 
pass,  till  the  whole  stock  of  heresy  is  up- 
rooted!" 

"  Hold,  father!"  exclaimed  Viviana, 
"  even  here,  beholding  this  miserable 
sight,  and  with  feelings  keenly  excited,  1 
cannot  join  in  your  terrible  denunciation. 
What  I  hope  for — what  I  pray  for,  is  tol- 
eration, nut  vengeance.  The  sufferings  of 
our  brethren  will  not  have  been  in  vain,  if 
they  enable  our  successors  to  worship 
God  in  their  own  way,  and  according  to 
the  dictates  of  their  consciences.  The 
ruthless  conduct  of  our  persecutors  must 
be  held  in  as  much  abhorrence  by  all  good 
Protestants  as  our  persecution  of  that  sect, 
when  we  were  in  the  ascendant,  is  re- 
garded by  all  worthy  members  of  our  own 
church.  I  cannot  believe  that  by  persecu- 
tion we  can  work  out  the  charitable  pre- 
cepts inculcated  by  our  Saviour,  and  1  am 
sure  such  a  course  is  as  adverse  to  the 
spirit  of  religion,  as  it  is  to  that  of  human- 
ity. Let  us  bear  our  sorrows  with  pa- 
tience,— let  us  utter  no  repinings,  but  turn 
the  other  cheek  to  the  smiter,  and  we  shall 
find,  in  due  time,  that  the  hearts  of  our 
oppressors  will  relent,  and  that  all  the 
believers  in  the  True  God  will  he  enabled 
to  worship  him  in  peace,  though  at  dilfer- 
ent  altars." 

"  Such  a  season  will  never  arrive, 
daughter,"  replied  Garnet,  severely,  "  till 
heresy  is  extirpated,  and  the  false  doc- 
trines, now  prevailing,  utterly  abolished. 
Then,  indeed,  when  the  Church  of  Rome 
86  re-established,  and  the  old  and  true  re- 


ligion restored,  universal  peace  will  pre- 
vail. And  let  me  correct  the  grievous  and 
sinful  error  into  which  you  have  fallen. 
Our  church  is  always  at  war  with  heres}'^; 
and  if  it  cannot  uproot  it  by  gentle  means, 
authorizes,  nay  enjoins  the  employment  of 
force." 

"  I  will  not  attempt  to  dispute  with  you 
upon  points  of  faith,  father,"  returned 
Viviana;  "  I  am  content  to  think  and  act 
according  to  ray  own  feelings  and  convic- 
tions. But  1  will  not  give  up  the  hope 
that  in  some  milder  and  wiser  age,  perse- 
cution on  either  side  will  cease,  and  the 
sufferings  of  its  victims  be  remembered 
only  to  soften  the  hearts,  of  fanatics,  of 
whatever  creed,  towards  each  other.  Were 
a  lesson  wanting  to  ourselves,  surely  it 
might  be  found  in  the  result  that  has  at- 
tended your  dark  and  criminal  enterprise, 
and  in  which  the  disapproval  of  Heaven 
has  been  signally  manifested." 

"Not  so,  daughter,"  replied  Garnet. 
"  An  action  is  not  to  he  judged  or  justified 
by  the  event  attending  it,  but  by  its  own 
intrinsic  merits.  To  aver  the  contrary 
were  to  throw  a  doubt  upon  the  Holy 
Scriptures  themselves,  where  we  read  in 
the  Book  of  Judges  that  the  eleven  tribes 
of  Israel  were  coiriinandcd  to  make  war 
upon  the  tribe  of  Benjatnin,  and  yet  were 
twice  defeated.  We  have  failed.  But 
this  proves  nothing  against  our  project, ' 
which  I  maintain  to  be  righteous  and 
praiseworthy,  undertaken  to  overthrow  an 
heretical  and  excommunicated  monarch, 
and  to  re-establish  the  true  faith  of  the 
Most  High  throughout  this  land." 

"I  lament  to  find  that  you  still  persist 
in  error,  father,"  replied  Viviana:  "hut 
you  cannot  by  any  sophistry  induce  me  to 
coincide  with  you  in  opinion.  1  hold  the 
attempt  an  offence  alike  against  God  and 
man,  and  while  I  rejoice  at  the  issue  that 
has  attended  it,  I  deplore  the  irreparable 
harm  it  will  do  to  the  whole  body  oT  Ca- 
tholics, all  of  whom  will  be  connected, 
by  the  bigoted  and  unthinking  of  the  hos- 
tile party,  with  the  atrocious  design.  Not 
only  have  you  done  our  cause  an  injury, 
but  you  have  in  a  measure  justified  our 
opponents' severity,  and  given  them  a  plea 
for  further  persecution." 

"  No  more  of  this,  daughter,"  rejoined 
Garnet  impatiently,  "  or  1  shall  deem  it 
necessary  to  reprove  you.  Let  us  search 
the  house,  and  try  to  find  some  habitable 
chamber  in  whicli  you  can  pass  the  night." 

After  a  long  search,  they  discovered  a 
room  in  comparatively  good  order,  and 
leaving  Viviana  within  it,  Garnet  de- 
scended to  the  lower  part  of  the  house, 
where  he  found  Nicholas  Owen,  and  the 
two  other  attendants. 

"  We  have  chanced  upon  a  scanty  sup- 

16* 


180 


GUY     FAWKES. 


ply  of  provender  for  our  steeds,"  remarked 
Owen  with  a  doleful  look;  "  but  we  are 
not  likely  to  obtain  a  meal  ourselves,  un- 
less we  can  feed  upon  rats  and  mice, 
which  appear  to  be  the  sole  tenants  of  this 
miserable  dwellinfr." 

"  You  must  go  to  Manchester  instantly, 
and  procure  provisions,"  returned  Garnet. 
"  But  take  heed  you  observe  the  utmost 
caution." 

"Fear  nothincr,"  replied  Owen.  "If  I 
am  taken,  your  reverence  will  lose  your 
supper — that  is  all." 

lie  then  set  out  upon  his  errand,  and 
Garnet  proceeded  to  the  kitchen,  where, 
to  his  great  surprise,  he  found  the  hearth- 
stone still  warm,  and  a  few  lighted  em- 
bers upon  it,  while  crumbs  of  bread,  and 
little  fragments  of  meat  scattered  about, 
proved  that  some  one  had  taken  a  meal 
there.  Startled  by  this  discovery,  he  con- 
tinued Ills  search,  but  as  fruitlessly  as  be- 
fore; and  though  he  called  to  any  one  who 
might  be  hidden  to  come  forth,  the  sum- 
mons was  unanswered.  One  of  the  at- 
tendants had  placed  a  few  sticks  upon  the 
smouldering  ashes,  and  on  reluming  to 
the  kitchen,  it  was  found  that  they  had 
kindled.  A  fire  being  thus  obtained,  some 
of  the  broken  furniture  was  used  to  reple- 
nish it,  and  by  Garnet's  commands  ano- 
ther fire  was  speedily  lighted  in  Viviana's 
chamber.  Night  had  now  come  on,  and 
Owen  not  returning.  Garnet  became  ex- 
tremely uneasy,  and  had  almost  given  him 
up,  when  the  absentee  made  his  appear- 
ance, with  a  large  basket  of  provisions 
under  his  arm. 

"I  have  had  some  difficulty  in  obtain- 
ing them,"  he  said;  "  and  fancying  I  ob- 
served two  persons  following  me,  was 
obliged  to  take  a  circuitous  route  to  get 
back.  The  whole  town  is  in  commotion 
about  the  plot,  and  it  is  said  that  the  most 
rigorous  measures  are  to  be  adopted  to- 
wards all  the  Catholic  families  in  the 
neighbourhood." 

Sighing  at  the  latter  piece  of  intelli- 
gence, Garnet  selected  such  provisions  as 
he  tliouQjht  would  be  acceptable  to  Vivi- 
aua,  and  took  them  upstairs  to  her.  She 
ate  a  little  i)read,  and  drank  a  cup  of  water, 
hut  refused  to  taste  anything  else,  and 
finding  it  in  vain  to  press  her.  Garnet  re- 
turned to  the  kitchen,  where,  being  much 
exhausted,  he  recruited  himself  with  a 
hearty  nienl,  and  a  cup  of  wine. 

Left  alone,  Viviana  knelt  down,  and 
clasping  a  small  crucifix  to  her  breast, 
prayed  long  and  fervently.  While  she 
was  thus  engaged,  slie  heard  the  door  open 
gently  behind  her,  and  turning  her  head, 
beheld  an  old  man  clothed  in  a  tattered 
garb,  with  long  while  hair  flowing  over 
his  shoulders,  and  a  beard  of  tiie  same 


snowy  hue  descending  upon  his  breast. 
As  he  advanced  slowly  towards  her.  she 
started  to  her  feet,  and  a  brighter  flame 
arising  at  the  moment  from  the  fire,  it  il- 
lumined the  intruder's  wobegone  features. 

"  Is  it  possible!"  she  exclaimed, — "  can 
it  be  my  father's  old  steward,  Jerome  Hey- 
docke]" 

"  It  is  indeed,  my  dear  young  mistress," 
replied  the  old  man,  falling  on  his  knee 
before  her.  "  Heaven  be  praised!"  he 
continued,  seizing  her  hand,  and  bedewing 
it  with  tears;  "  I  have  seen  you  once  again, 
and  shall  die  content." 

"  I  never  expected  to  behold  you  more, 
good  Heydocke,"  returned  Viviana,  raising 
him.    "  1  heard  you  had  died  in  prison." 

"  It  was  so  given  out  by  the  jailers,  to 
account  for  my  escape,"  replied  the  old 
steward;  and  I  took  care  never  to  contra- 
dict tlie  report  by  making  my  appearance. 
I  will  not  distress  you  by  the  recital  of  all 
I  have  endured,  but  will  simply  state  that 
I  was  confined  in  the  prison  upon  Hunt's 
Bank,  whence  I  escaped  in  the  night  by 
dropping  upon  the  rocks,  and  from  them 
into  the  river,  where  it  was  supposed  I 
was  drowned.  Making  my  way  into  the 
country,  I  concealed  myself  for  a  time  in 
barns  and  outbuildings,  until,  at  length,  I 
ventured  back  to  the  old  house,  and  have 
dwelt  in  it  unmolested  ever  since.  I  should 
have  perished  of  want  long  ago,  but  for 
the  kindness  of  Mr.  Humphrey  Chetham. 
He  used  to  send  my  son  regularly  to  me 
with  provisions;  and,  now  that  Martin  is 
gone  to  London,  on  business,  as  I  under- 
stood, relating  to  you,  he  brings  them  to  me 
himself.     He  will  be  here  to-morrow." 

"  Indeed!"  exclaimed  Viviana.  "I  must 
see  him." 

"  As  you  please,"  returned  the  old  man. 
"  I  suppose  those  are  your  companions 
below.  I  was  in  my  hiding-place,  and 
hearing  voices  and  footsteps,  did  not  dare 
to  venture  forth  till  all  was  still.  On  ap- 
proaching this  room,  which  1  have  been  in 
the  habit  of  occupying  lately,  and  peeping 
through  the  door,  which  was  standing  ajar, 
I  perceived  a  female  figure,  and  thinking 
it  must  be  you,  though  I  scarcely  dared 
to  trust  the  evidence  of  my  senses,  I  ven- 
tured in.  Oh!  my  dear,  dear  young  mis- 
tress, what  a  joy  it  is  to  see  you  again!  I 
fear  you  must  have  suffered  much,  for  you 
are  greatly  altered." 

At  this  moment.  Garnet  entered  the  room. 
He  started  on  seeing  the  old  steward.  But 
an  explanation  was  instantly  given  him. 

"  You,  then,  are  the  person  by  whom 
the  fire  was  recently  lighted  in  the  kitchen?" 
he  asked. 

Heydocke  replied  in  the  affirmative. 

"I  came  to  bid  you  farewell  for  the 
night,  dear  daughter,"  said  Garnet,  "  and 


GUY    FAWKES. 


181 


to  assure  you  that  you  may  rest  without 
fear,  for  we  have  contrived  to  make  fast 
the  doors.  Come  with  me,  my  son,"  he 
added  to  the  steward,  "  and  you  shall  have 
a  comfortable  meal  below." 

Making  a  profound  reverence  to  Viviana, 
the  old  man  followed  him  down  stairs. 

Viviana  continued  to  pace  to  and  fro 
within  her  chamber  for  some  time,  and 
then,  overcoiTie  with  fatigue,  flung  herself 
upon  the  bedstead,  on  which  a  cloak  had 
been  thrown.  Sleep  soon  closed  her  eyes, 
but  it  was  disturbed  by  frightful  and  dis- 
tressing dreams,  from  which  she  was  sud- 
denly aroused  by  a  touch  upon  the  arm. 
Starting  up,  she  perceived  the  old  steward 
by  the  side  of  her  couch,  with  a  light  in 
his  hand. 

"  What  brings  you  here,  Heydocke]" 
she  demanded,  with  surprise  and  alarm. 

"  You  have  slept  soundly,  my  dear 
young  mistress,  or  you  would  not  require 
to  be  informed,"  replied  the  steward. 
''  There!  do  you  not  hear  it]"  he  added, 
as  a  loud  knocking  resounded  from  be- 
low. 

Viviana  listened  for  a  moment,  and  then 
as  if  struck  by  a  sudden  idea,  hurried  down 
stairs.  She  found  Garnet  and  the  others 
assembled  in  the  hall,  but  wholly  unnerved 
by  fright.  "  Hide  yourselves,"  she  said, 
"and  no  ill  shall  befiill  you.  Quick!— not 
a  moment  is  to  be  lost!" 

Having  allowed  them  sufficient  time  for 
concealment,  she  demanded  in  a  loud  voice 
who  was  without] 

"  Friends,"  was  the  reply. 

"  It  is  the  voice  of  Doctor  Dee,"  replied 
Heydocke. 

"  Indeed!"  exclaimed  Viviana.  "  Admit 
him  instantly." 

Heydocke  obeyed,  and  throwing  open 
the  door,  gave  entrance  to  the  Doctor,  who 
was  wrapped  in  his  long  furred  gown,  and 
carried  a  lantern.  He  was  accompanied 
by  Kelley  and  Humphrey  Chetham. 

"Your  visit  is  singularly  timed,  Mr. 
Chetham,"  said  Viviana,  after  she  had 
saluted  the  party;  "  but  you  are  not  the 
less  welcome  on  that  acx^ount.  I  much 
desired  to  see  you,  and  indeed  should  have 
sent  for  you  to-morrow.  13ut  how  did  you 
know  I  was  here?" 

"The  only  explanation  I  can  offer  you 
is  this,"  replied  Cheliiam.  "  1  was  hastily 
summoned  from  my  residence  at  Crump- 
sail  by  Kelley,  who  told  me  you  were  at 
Ordsall  Hall,  and  that  Doctor  Dee  was 
about  to  visit  you,  and  desired  my  com- 
pany.   Thus  summoned,  I  came  at  once." 

"A  strange  explanation  indeed!"  replied 
Viviana. 

"  Close  and  fasten  the  door,"  said  Dee, 
in  an  authoritative  tone  to  Kelley,  and  as 
soon  as  his  commands  were  obeyed,  he 


took  Viviana's  hand,  and  led  her  to  the 
farther  end  of  the  hall. 

"  My  art  informed  me  of  your  arrival, 
Vivaina,"  he  said.  "  I  am  come  to  save 
you.     You  are  in  imminent  danger." 

"  I  well  know  it,"  she  replied;  "  but  I 
have  no  wish  to  fly  from  justice.  I  am 
weary  of  my  life,  and  would  gladly  resign 
it." 

"  I  would  call  to  your  recollection, 
Viviana,"  pursued  Dee,  "that  1  foretold 
the  disastrous  result  of  this  plot,  in  which 
you  have  become  unhappily  involved,  to 
Guy  Fawkes,  and  warned  him  not  to  pro- 
ceed in  it.  But  he  would  not  be  advised, 
and  is  now  a  prisoner  in  the  Tower." 

"All  I  wish  is  to  go  thither,  and  die 
with  him,"  rejoined  Viviana. 

"If you  go  thither  you  will  die  before 
him,"  said  Dee. 

"I  would  do  so,"  she  replied. 

"Viviana  Radclifle,"  returned  Dee,  in 
a  compassionate  tone,  "  I  truly  grieve  for 
you.  Your  attachment  to  this  heinous  trai- 
tor completely  blinds  you.  The  friendship 
I  entertained  for  your  mother  makes  me 
anxious  to  serve  you — to  see  you  happy. 
It  is  now  in  your  power  to  be  so.  But  if 
you  lake  another  false  step,  your  fate  is 
decided,  and  you  will  die  an  early  death. 
I  will  answer  for  your  safety — nay,  what 
is  more,  I  will  undertake  that  ere  long  you 
shall  again  be  mistress  of  this  mansion, 
and  have  your  estates  restored  to  you." 

"  You  promise  fairly,  sir,"  she  replied 
with  a  mournful  smile. 

"I  have  not  yet  done,"  pursued  Dee.- 
"All  I  require  for  the  service  is,  that  when 
freed  by  the  death  of  Guy  Fawkes  from 
the  chain  that  now  binds  you — for  I  am 
aware  of  yourill-starred  union  with  him — 
you  shall  bestow  your  hand  upon  Huui- 
phrey  Chetham." 

"  It  may  not  be,"  replied  Viviana, 
firmly.  "  And  if  you  could  in  truth  read 
the  secrets  of  the  heart,  you  would  know 
that  mine  would  instantly  reject  the  pro- 
posal." 

"  Think  not  it  originates  with  me,  Vivi- 
ana," said  Humphrey  Chetham,  who  had 
approached  them  unobserved.  "  My  pre- 
vious experience  of  your  character  would 
alone  have  prevented  me  from  becoming  a 
party  to  any  such  proposal,  had  I  known 
it  would  be  made.  Do  not,  I  beseech  you, 
sir,"  he  added  to  Dee,  "clog  your  ofler 
with  conditions  which  will  effectually  pre- 
vent its  accomplishment." 

"  You  are  true  to  yourself,  Mr.  Chet- 
ham," rejoined  Viviana,  "and  will  not, 
therefore,  wonder  that  I  continue  so.  Were 
I  to  assent  to  Doctor  Dee's  proposal,  I 
should  be  further  from  happiness  tlian  I 
am  now,  even  if  he  could  make  good  his 
words,  and  restore  me  to  the  station  I  have 


BS^ 


GUY    FAWKES. 


forfeited.  I  have  received  a  shock  from 
■which  1  shall  never  recover,  and  the  only 
haven  of  repose,  to  which  I  look  forward, 
is  the  o^rave." 

*' Alas!"  exclaimed  Chetham,  in  a  pity- 
ing tone. 

"You  will  think  I  trespass  too  much 
upon  your  kindness,"  she  pursued;  "hut 


"I  shall  not  shrink  from  it,"  she  re- 
joined. 

"  It  is  well,"  he  replied.  "  Before  I 
leave,  I  will  give  you  another  caution. — 
Father  Garnet  is  here.  Nay,  attempt  not 
to  deny  it.  You  cannot  deceive  me.  Be- 
sides, I  desire  to  serve,  not  harm  him.  If 
he  remains  here  till  to-morrow,  he  will  be 


you  can  render  me  a  great  service,  and  it  I  captured.  A  proclamation  has  been  issued 
will  be  the  last  I  shall  ever  require  from  I  for  his  arrest,  as  well  as  for  that  of  Father 
you."  I  Oldcorne.    Deliver  him  this  warning.   And 

"  Name  it!"  cried  Chetham,  eagerly.        now,  farewell!" 

"  I  would  beg  you  to  escort  me  to  Lon-  With  this,  he  took  up  his  lantern,  and 
don,"  she  rejoined;  "and  to  deliver  me  to  followed  by  Kelley,  quitted  the  hall, 
the  lords  of  the  council.  I  would  will-  Humphrey  Chetham  only  tarried  a  few 
ingly  escape  the  indignities  to  which  I  moments  to  inform  Viviana  that  he  would 
shall  be  exposed  if  I  am  conveyed  thither  return  soon  after  daybreak  with  a  couple  of 
as  a  prisoner.     Will  you  do  this*!"  steeds  for  the  journey.     As  soon  as  he  was 

"I  will,"  replied  Chetham.  |  gone,  Viviana  communicated  Dee's  warn- 

"  Lest  you  should  think  I  have  offered    ing  to  Garnet,  who  was  so  alarmed  by  it. 


more  than  1  can  perform,  Viviana,"  said 
Dee,  who  had  listened  attentively  to  the 
foregoing  conversation,  "  I  will  now  tell 
you  on  what  grounds  1  build  my  expecta- 
tion of  procuring  your  pardon.  The  con- 
spiracy was  first  revealed  by  me  to  the 
Earl  of  Salisbury,  though  for  his  own  pur- 
poses he  kept  it  secret  to  the  last.  He 
owes  me  a  heavy  debt,  and  shall  pay  it  in 
the  way  I  propose,  if  you  desire  it." 

"I  will  abide  by  what  I  have  done," 
replied  Viviana. 

"  You  know,  then,  what  fate  awaits 
youl"  said  Dee. 


that  he  resolved  not  to  delay  his  own  de- 
parture a  moment.  Taking  an  affectionate 
leave  of  Viviana,  and  confiding  her  to  the 
care  of  the  old  steward,  he  set  out  with  his 
three  attendants. 

Faithful  to  his  promise,  Humphrey  Chet- 
ham ap|)eared  at  the  appointed  time.  Vi- 
viana bade  an  eternal  farewell  to  the  old 
steward,  who  was  overwhelmed  with  grief, 
and  looked  as  if  his  sorrows  would  soon 
be  ended,  and  mounting  one  of  the  steeds 
brought  by  the  young  merchant,  they  took 
the  direction  of  London. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 


HENDLIP. 


Garnet  proceeded  at  a  rapid  pace  for 
some  miles  before  he  acquainted  his  com- 
panions whilher  he  was  going.  He  then 
informed  Nicholas  Owen,  who  rode  by  his 
side,  that  he  should  make  the  best  of  his 
•way  to  Hendlip  House,  the  seat  of  Mr. 
Thomas  Abingdon,  near  Droitwich,  in 
Worcestershire,  where  he  knew  that  Father 
Oldcorne  and  Anne  Vaux  had  retired,  and 
where  he  was  certain  to  meet  with  a  friendly 
reception  and  protection.  Owen,  who  was 
completely  in  his  master's  confidence, 
agreed  that  no  safer  asylum  could  be  found, 
and  they  pursued  their  journey  with  so 
much  ardour,  that  early  on  the  following 
night  they  arrived  within  a  short  distance 
of  the  mansion.  Owen  was  sent  forward 
10  reconnoitre,  and  returned  in  about  half 
an  hour  with  Mr.  Abingdon,  who  embraced 
Garnet,  and  told  him  he  was  truly  happy 
in  beingr  able  to  offer  him  a  retreat. 


"  And  I  think  it  will  prove  a  secure  one," 
he  added.  "There  are  so  many  hiding- 
places  in  the  old  house,  that  if  it  is  beset 
for  a  year  you  will  scarcely  be  discovered. 
Have  you  heard  of  the  fate  of  your  con- 
federates?" 

"Alas!  no,  my  son,"  replied  Garnet; 
"  and  I  tremble  to  ask  it." 

"  It  had  better  be  told  at  once,"  rejoined 
Abingdon.  "  Catesby,  Percy,  and  the  two 
W^riglits,  have  been  slain  in  the  defence  of 
Holbeaoh;  while  Rookwood,  Grant,  and 
Thomas  Winter,  all  of  whom  were  severely 
wounded  in  the  siege,  have  been  made  pri- 
soners, and  are  now  on  their  way  to  the 
Tower." 

"  A  fearful  catalogue  of  ills!"  exclaimed 
Garnet. 

"  It  is  not  yet  complete,"  pursued  Ab- 
1  ingdon.  "  Sir  Everard  Digby  has  been 
I  defeated,  and  made  prisoner  in  an  attempt 


GUY    FAWKES. 


183 


to  bring  additional  force  to  his  friends,  and 
Keyes  has  been  arrested  in  Warwickshire." 

"These  are  woful  tidino^s  truly,  my 
son,"  returned  Garnet.  "  But  Heaven's 
will  be  done!" 

He  then  dismissed  his  two  attendants, 
to  whom  he  gave  a  sum  of  money,  to- 
gether with  the  steeds,  and  attended  by 
Nicholas  Owen,  repaired  to  the  house  with 
Mr.  Ahingdon,  who  admitted  them  through 
a  secret  door. 

Hendlip  House,  which,  unfortunately 
for  the  lovers  of  picturesque  and  storied 
habitations,  was  pulled  down  a  few  years 
ago,  having  been  latterly  used  as  a  ladies' 
boarding-school,  was  a  large  and  irregular 
structure,  with  walls  of  immense  thick- 
ness, tall  stacks  of  chimneys,  turrets,  oriel 
windows,  and  numberless  projections,  con- 
trived to  mask  the  labyrinths  and  secret 
chambers  within.  Erected  by  John  Abing- 
don, father  of  the  proprietor  at  the  period 
of  this  history,  and  cofferer  to  Queen 
Elizabeth  in  the  early  part  of  the  reign  of 
that  princess,  it  was  filled  with  secret 
staircases,  masked  entrances,  trap-doors, 
vaults,  subterranean  passages,  secret  re- 
cesses, and  every  other  description  of 
hiding-place.  An  immense  gallery  sur- 
rounded three  sides  of  the  entrance-hall, 
containing  on  each  side  a  large  chimney- 
piece,  surmounted  by  a  shield  displaying 
the  arms  of  the  family — argent,  a  bend 
gules,  three  eaglets  displayed  or.  Behind 
each  of  these  chimney-pieces  was  a  small 
cell,  or  "  priest's  hole,"  as  it  was  termed, 
contrived  in  tlie  thickness  of  the  wall. 
Throughout  the  mansion,  the  chambers 
were  so  sombre,  and  the  passages  so  nu- 
merous and  intricate,  that,  in  the  words  of 
one  who  described  it  from  personal  obser- 
vation, the  whole  place  presented  "  a  pic- 
ture of  gloom,  insecurity,  and  suspicion." 
Standing  on  an  elevated  situation,  it  com- 
manded the  country  on  all  sides,  and  could 
not  be  approached  during  the  day-time 
without  alarm  being  given  to  its  inmates. 

Thomas  Abingdon,  the  owner  of  the 
mansion  at  the  period  in  question,  and  the 
eldest  son  of  its  founder,  was  born  at 
Thorpe,  near  Chertsey,  in  Surrey,  in  15G0. 
He  was  educated  at  Oxford,  and  finished 
his  studies  at  the  Universities  of  Paris  and 
Rheims.  A  man  of  considerable  taste  and 
learning,  but  of  a  plotting  disposition,  he 
became  a  willing  tool  of  the  Jesuits,  and 
immediately  on  his  return  to  England, 
connected  himself  with  the  difTurent  con- 
spiracies set  on  foot  for  the  liberation  of  the 
imprisoned  Queen  of  Scots.  For  these 
offences  he  was  imprisoned  in  the  Tower 
for  the  term  of  six  years,  and  only  escaped 
death  from  the  fact  of  his  being  the  Queen's 
godson,  coupled  with  the  estimation  in 
which  she  had  held  his  father.     On  his 


liberation,  he  remained  perfectly  tranquil 
till  the  accession  of  James,  when  he  be- 
came a  secret  plotter  against  that  monarch. 
His  concealment  of  the  two  priests,  about 
to  be  related,  occasioned  his  being  again 
sent  to  the  Tower,  and  if  it  had  not  been 
for  the  intercession  of  Lord  Mouiiieagle, 
whose  sister  he  had  espoused,  lie  would 
have  been  executed.  He  was  pardoned 
on  condition  of  never  stirring  beyond  the 
precincts  of  Worcestershire,  and  he  em- 
ployed his  retirement  in  compiling  an  ac- 
count of  the  antiquities  of  that  county, 
which  he  left  behind  him  in  manuscript, 
and  of  which  Doctor  Nash,  its  more  recent 
historian,  has  largely  availed  himself. 

With  a  habitation  so  contrived,  Mr. 
Abingdon  might  fairly  promise  his  guests 
a  safe  asylum.  Conducting  them  along 
a  secret  passage  to  a  chamber  of  which  he 
alone  possessed  the  key,  he  left  Garnet 
within  it,  and  taking  Owen  with  him  to 
another  place  of  concealment,  returned 
shortly  afterwards  with  Anne  Vaux  and 
Father  Oldcorne.  The  two  priests  tenderly, 
embraced  each  other,  and  Oldcorne  poured 
forth  his  tears  on  his  superior's  shoulder. 
Garnet  next  turned  to  Anne  Vaux,  be- 
tween whom  and  himself,  as  has  been  be- 
fore mentioned,  an  affectionate  intimacy 
subsisted,  and  found  her  quite  overcome 
by  her  feelings.  Supper  was  now  served 
to  Garnet  by  a  confidential  servant,  and 
after  a  few  hours  spent  in  conversation 
with  his  friends,  during  which  they  dis- 
cussed the  disastrous  issue  of  the  affair, 
and  the  probable  fate  of  the  conspirators, 
they  quitted  him,  and  he  retired  to  rest — 
but  not  before  he  had  returned  thanks  to 
Heaven  for  enabling  him  once  more  to  lay 
down  his  head  in  safety. 

On  the  following  morning,  he  was 
visited  by  Mrs.  Abingdon,  a  lady  of  con- 
siderable personal  attractions,  and  Anne 
Vaux;  and  when  he  had  recovered  from 
the  fatigue  of  his  journey,  and  the  anxie- 
ties he  had  recently  undergone,  he  expe- 
rienced great  delight  in  their  society.  The 
chamber  he  occupied  was  lighted  by  a 
small  loop-hole,  which  enabled  him  to 
breathe  the  fresh  air,  and  gaze  upon  the 
surrounding  country. 

In  this  way,  nearly  two  months  passed 
on,  during  which,  though  rigorous  inqui- 
ries were  made  throughout  the  country,  no 
clue  was  found  by  the  searchers  to  lead 
them  to  Hendlip;  and  the  concealed  parties 
began  to  indulge  hopes  that  they  should 
escape  detection  altogether.  Being  in 
constant  correspondence  with  her  brother, 
Lord  Mounteagle,  though  she  did  not  trust 
him  with  the  important  secret  of  the  con- 
cealment of  the  priests,  Mrs.  Abingdon 
ascertained  all  that  was  done  in  reference 
to  the  conspirators,  whose  trials  were  now 


184 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


approaching,  and  communicated  the  intel- 
ligpnce  to  Garnet. 

On  the  morninjr  of  the  20th  of  January, 
and  when  long  quietude  had  bred  com- 
plete fancied  security  in  Garnet,  Anne 
Vaux  and  Mrs.  Abingdon  suddenly  en- 
tered his  chamber,  and  with  countenances 
of  the  utmost  alarm,  informed  him  that 
Mr.  Abingdon's  confidential  servant  had 
just  relumed  from  Worcester,  where  his 
master  tiien  was,  and  had  brought  word 
that  Topciiffe,  armed  with  a  search-war- 
rant from  the  Earl  of  Salisbury,  had  just 
passed  tlirough  that  city  on  his  way  to 
Holt  Castle,  the  residence  of  Sir  Henry 
Bromley. 

"  It  appears,"  said  Mrs.  Abingdon, 
"  that  Humphrey  Littleton,  who  has  been 
apprehended  and  condemned  to  death  at 
Worcester  for  harbouring  his  brother  and 
Robert  Winter,  has  sought  to  procure  a 
remission  of  his  sentence  by  betraying 
your  retreat.  In  consequence  of  this, 
Topcliffe  has  been  sent  down  from  Lon- 
don, with  a  warrant  addressed  to  Sir 
Henry  Bromley,  to  aid  him  in  searching 
Hendlip.  My  husband  has  given  particu- 
lar orders  that  you  are  to  be  removed  to 
the  most  secure  hiding-place  without  de- 
lay; and  he  deeply  regrets  that  he  himself 
cannot  return  till  evening,  for  fear  of  ex- 
citing suspicion." 

"  Take  me  where  you  please,  daughter," 
replied  Garnet,  who  was  thrown  into  great 
perturbation  by  the  intelligence.  "  I 
thought  myself  prepared  for  any  emer- 
gency.    But  I  was  wofully  deceived." 

"  Be  not  alarmed,  father,"  said  Anne 
Vaux,  in  an  encouraging  tone.  "  Let 
them  search  as  long  as  they  will,  they  will 
never  discover  your  retreat." 

"  I  have  a  strong  presentiment  to  the 
contrary,"  replied  Garnet. 

At  this  moment,  Oldcorne  made  his  ap- 
pearance, and  on  learning  the  alarming 
news,  was  as  much  dismayed  as  his  su- 
perior. 

After  a  short  consultation,  and  while 
the  priests  were  putting  aside  every  arti- 
cle necessary  to  be  removed,  Mrs.  Abing- 
don proceeded  to  the  gallery,  and  con- 
trived on  some  plausible  pretext  to  send 
away  the  whole  of  the  domestics  from 
this  part  of  the  house.  This  done,  she 
hastily  returned,  and  conducted  the  two 
priests  to  one  of  the  large  fire-places. 

A  raised  stone  about  two  feet  high  oc- 
cupied the  inside  of  the  chimney,  and 
upon  it  stood  an  immense  pair  of  iron 
dogs.  Obeying  Mrs.  Abingdon's  direc- 
tions. Garnet  got  upon  the  stone,  and  set- 
ting his  foot  on  the  large  iron  knob  on  the 
left,  found  a  few  projections  in  the  mason- 
ry on  the  side,  up  wliicli  he  mounted,  and 
opening  a  small  door,  made  of  planks  of 


wood,  covered  with  bricks,  and  coloured 
black,  so  as  not  to  be  distinguishable  from 
the  walls  of  the  chimney,  crept  into  a  re- 
cess contrived  in  the  thickness  of  the  wall. 
This  cell  was  about  two  feet  wide,  and 
four  high,  and  was  connected  witii  another 
chimney  at  tlie  back,  by  means  of  three 
or  four  small  holes.  Around  its  sides  ran 
I  narrow  stone  slielf,  just  wide  enough  to 
afford  an  uncomfortable  seat.  Garnet  was 
followed  by  Oldcorne,  who  brought  with 
him  a  quantity  of  books,  vestments,  and 
sacred  vessels  used  in  the  performance  of 
the  rites  of  the  Church  of  Rome.  These 
articles,  which  afterwards  occasioned  them 
much  inconvenience,  they  did  not  dare  to 
leave  behind. 

Having  seen  them  safely  bestowed, 
Mrs.  Abingdon  and  her  companion  went 
in  search  of  provisions,  and  brought  them 
a  piece  of  cold  meat  and  a  pastry,  together 
with  some  bread,  dried  fruit,  conserves, 
and  a  flask  of  wine.  They  did  not  dare  to 
bring  more,  for  fear  of  exciting  the  sus- 
picion of  the  household.  Their  next  care 
was  to  conduct  Owen,  and  Oldcorne's 
servant.  Chambers,  to  a  similar  retreat  in 
one  of  the  other  chimneys,  and  to  provide 
them  with  a  scanty  supply  of  provisions 
and  a  flask  of  wine.  All  this  was  accom- 
plished without  being  noticed  by  any  of 
the  domestics. 

As  may  be  imagined,  a  most  anxious 
day  was  passed  by  all  parties.  Towards 
evening,  Sir  Henry  Bromley,  the  sheriff  of 
the  county,  accompanied  by  Topclitfe,  and 
attended  by  a  troop  of  soldiers,  appeared 
at  the  gales  of  the  mansion,  and  demanded 
admittance.  Just  at  this  moment,  Mr. 
Abingdon  rode  up,  and  alTecting  to  know 
nothing  of  the  matter,  saluted  Sir  Henry 
Bromley,  with  whom  he  was  on  terms  of 
intimacy,  and  inquired  his  business. 

"  You  are  charged  with  harbouring  two 
Jesuit  priests,  Fathers  Garnet  and  Old- 
corne, supposed  to  be  connected  with  the 
late  atrocious  conspiracy  against  the  King, 
Mr.  Abingdon,"  interposed  Topcliffe;  "and 
I  brought  a  warrant  from  the  Earl  of  Sa- 
lisbury, which  I  have  delivered  to  Sir  Hen- 
ry Bromley,  commanding  him  to  search 
your  house  for  them." 

"I  was  loth  to  accept  the  olBce,  Mr. 
Abingdon,"  said  Sir  Henry  Bromley,  who 
was  a  handsome,  middle-aged  man;  "but 
my  duty  to  my  soverign  allows  me  no  al- 
ternative. I  trust,  though  a  Catholic,  that 
you  share  my  own  detestation  of  this  dia- 
bolical plot,  and  would  not  shelter  any  of 
its  contrivers,  or  abettors." 

"  You  judge  me  rightly.  Sir  Henry," 
replied  Abingdon,  who,  meanwhile,  had 
received  a  private  signal  from  his  confiden- 
tial servant  that  all  was  safe,  "  I  would 
not.     I  am  just  relumed  from   Worcester, 


GUY     FAWKES. 


185 


where  I  linve  been  for  the  last  two  days. 
Enter  my  house,  I  pray  you,  and  search 
every  corner  of  it;  and  if  you  find  a  Jesuit 
priest  concealed  within  it,  you  shall  hang 
me  at  my  own  gate." 

"You  must  be  misinformed,  sir,"  ob- 
served Sir  Henry,  who  was  completely 
imposed  upon  by  Abingdon's  unconcerned 
demeanour,  "  they  cannot  be  here." 

"Trust  me,  they  are,"  returned  the 
other,  "  and  I  should  like  to  take  hina  at 
his  word." 

Giving  directions  to  the  band  to  environ 
the  house,  and  guard  all  itsa))proaches,  so 
as  to  prevent  any  one  from  escaping  from 
it,  Topcliffe  took  half  a  dozen  men  with 
liim,  and  instructed  them  how  to  act.  They 
first  repaired  to  the  great  dining-chamber, 
where,  in  accordance  with  the  instructions 
received  from  the  Earl  of  Salisbury,  Top- 
cliffe proceeded  to  the  further  end  of  the 
room,  and  directed  his  men  to  break  dov^'n 
the  wainscot.  With  some  difficulty,  the 
order  was  obeyed,  and  the  entrance  to  a 
vault  discovered,  into  which  Topcliffe 
descended.  But  he  found  nothing  to  re- 
pay his  trouble. 

Returning  to  the  dining-chamber,  he 
questioned  .Mr.  Abingdon,  who  secretly 
enjoyed  his  disappointment,  as  to  the  use 
of  the  vault,  but  the  latter  professed  entire 
ignorance  of  its  existence.  The  searchers 
next  proceeded  to  the  cellar,  and  bored  the 
floors  with  a  broach  to  a  considerable 
depth,  to  try  whether  there  were  any  vaults 
beneath  them,  but  they  made  no  discovery. 
Meanwhile  TopclilTe  hurried  upstairs  and 
examined  the  size  of  the  rooms  to  see  whe- 
ther they  corresponded  with  those  below, 
and  wherever  any  difierence  was  observ- 
able, he  caused  the  panels  to  he  pu^d 
down,  and  holes  broken  in  the  walls.  Tn 
this  way,  several  secret  passages  were 
discovered,  one  of  which  led  to  the  chamber 
lately  occupied  by  Garnet. 

Encouraged  by  this  discovery,  the 
searciiers  continued  their  operations  to  a 
late  hour,  when  they  desisted  for  the  night. 
On  the  following  day  they  resumed  their 
task,  and  Sir  Henry  Bromley  took  a  gene- 
ral survey  of  the  house  both  externally  and 
internally,  noting  the  appearances  outside, 
and  seeing  that  they  corresponded  with  the 
rooms  wiihin.  The  three  extraordinary 
chimney-pieces  in  the  gallery  attracted 
Topcl life's  attention;  but  the  contrivances 
within  were  so  well  managed,  that  they 
escaped  his  notice.  He  even  got  into  the 
chimneys,  and  examined  the  walls  on 
either  side,  but  could  detect  nothing.  And, 
lastly,  he  ordered  large  fires  to  be  lighted 
wiihin  them,  but  the  experiment  proving 
fruitless,  he  turned  his  attention  else- 
where. 

Mr.  Abingdon  had  attended  him  during 


this  part  of  the  search,  and,  though  he  pre- 
served an  unmoved  exterior,  he  was  full  of 
apprehension,  and  was  greatly  relieved 
when  it  was  abadoned.  In  the  course  of 
the  same  day,  two  other  hiding-places 
were  found  in  the  thickness  of  the  walls, 
but  nothing  was  discovered  within  them. 
In  order  to  prevent  any  communication 
with  the  concealed  persons,  Topcliffe  sta- 
tioned a  sentinel  at  the  door  of  Mr.  Abing- 
don's chamber,  and  another  at  that  of  Anne 
Vaux. 

On  the  third  day,  the  search  was  con- 
tinued more  rigorously  than  ever.  Wain- 
scots were  taken  down;  walls  broken  open; 
the  boards  of  the  floor  removed;  and  other 
secret  passages,  vaults,  and  hiding-places 
discovered.  Some  priests'  vestments  and 
articles  used  in  the  Romish  service  were 
found  in  one  of  these  places,  and  shown 
to  Mr.  Abingdon.  He  at  first  denied  all 
knowledge  of  them;  but  when  Topcliffe 
brought  forward  the  title-deeds  of  his  pro- 
perty, which  had  been  found  in  the  same 
place,  he  was  obliged  to  confess  he  had 
put  them  there  himself.  Still,  though  these 
discoveries  had  been  made,  the  searchers 
were  as  far  from  their  aim  as  ever;  and  Sir 
Henry  Bromley,  who  began  to  despair  of 
success,  would  have  departed  on  the  fifth, 
day,  if  Topcliffe  had  not  prevented  him. 

"  I  am  certain  they  are  here,"  said  the 
latter,  "and  have  hit  upon  a  plan  which 
cannot  fail  to  bring  them  forth." 

The  prisoners,  meanwhile,  suflfered  grie- 
vously from  their  confinement,  and  hearing 
the  searchers  knocking  against  the  walls, 
and  even  within  the  chimney,  felt  certain 
they  should  be  discovered.  Not  being 
able  to  stand  upright,  or  to  stretch  them- 
selves within  the  cell,  the  silting  posture 
they  were  compelled  to  adopt  became,  after 
a  time,  intolerably  irksome.  Broths,  milk, 
wine,  and  other  nutritious  fluids,  were  con- 
veyed to  them  by  means  of  a  reed  from  the 
adjoining  chimney;  but  after  thft  fifth  day 
this  supply  was  stopped,  as  Mrs.  Abing- 
don and  Anne  Vaux  were  compelled  by 
Topcliflle  to  remove  to  a  different  part  of 
the  house. 

They  now  began  to  experience  all  the 
horrors  of  starvation,  and  debated  whether 
they  should  die  where  they  were,  or  yield 
themselves  up  to  their  enemies.  Wretch- 
ed as  their  condition  was  however,  it  was 
not  so  bad  as  that  of  their  domestics, 
Owen  and  Chambers,  whose  wants  had 
not  been  so  carefully  attended  tOs  and  who 
were  now  reduced  to  the  most  deplorable 
state.  Nor  were  their  friends  less  uneasy. 
Aware  that  the  captives,  whom  there  was 
no  means  of  relieving,  for  the  searchers 
were  constantly  on  the  watch,  could  not 
hold  out  much  longer,  Mrs.  .Abingdon  con- 
sulted with  her  husband  whether  it  would 


186 


GUY    FAWKES. 


not  be  better  to  reveal  tbeir  hiding-places; 
but  this  he  would  not  permit. 

By  this  time,  every  secret  chamber, 
vault,  and  passage  in  the  place,  except  the 
actual  retreats  of  the  conspirators,  had 
been  discovered  by  Topcliffe,  and  though 
nothing  material  w^as  found,  he  felt  as- 
sured, from  the  uneasiness  displayed  by 
Mr.  Abingdon  and  his  wife,  and  above  all 
by  Anne  Vaux,  that  it  could  not  be  long 
before  his  perseverance  was  rewarded. 
Though  he  narrowly  watched  the  two 
ladies,  from  the  first,  he  could  never  de- 
tect them  in  the  act  of  conveying  food  to 
the  captives;  but  feeling  convinced  that 
they  did  so,  he  determined  to  remove  them 
to  a  different  part  of  the  house,  and  their 
unwillingness  to  obey  the  order  confirmed 
his  suspicions. 

"  We  are  sure  of  our  prey  now,"  he 
observed  to  Sir  Henry  Bromley.  "They 
must  be  half-starved  by  this  time,  and  will 
speedily  surrender  themselves." 

"  Pray  Heaven  they  do  so!"  returned 
the  other.  "  I  am  wearied  to  death  with 
my  long  stay  here." 

"  Have  a  few  hours'  patience,"  rejoined 
Topcliffe,  "and  you  will  find  that  your 
time  has  not  been  thrown  away." 

And  he  was  right.  Soon  after  midnight, 
a  trooper  who  was  watching  in  the  gallery, 
beheld  two  spectral-looking  figures  ap- 
proach him,  and  appalled  by  their  ghastly 
appearance,  uttered  a  loud  cry.  This 
brought  Topcliffe,  who  was  in  the  hall  be- 
low, to  bis  aid,  and  instantly  perceiving 
what  was  the  matter,  he  ran  towards  the 
supposed  phantoms,  and  seized  them. 
The  poor  wretches,  who  were  no  other 
than  Owen  and  Chambers,  and  were  well- 
i^igh  famished,  offered  no  resistance,  but 
would  neither  confess  where  they  had 
been  hidden,  nor  who  they  were.  As  the 
trooper  had  not  seen  them  come  forth, 
though  he  aflSrmed  with  a  tremendous  oath 
that  they  had  issued  from  the  floor,  the 
walls  were  again  sounded,  but  with  no 
result. 

Food  being  placed  before  the  captives, 
they  devoured  it  voraciously;  but  Topcliffe 
forbore  to  question  them  further  that  night, 
feeling  confident  that  he  could  extract  ihe 
truth  from  them  on  the  morrow  either  by 
promises  or  threats.  He  was,  however, 
mistaken.  They  continued  as  obstinate 
as  before,  and  when  confronted  with  Mr. 
Abingdon,  denied  all  knowledge  of  him; 
neither  would  they  explain  how  they  got 
into  the  house. 

Sir  Henry  Bromley,  however,  now  con- 
sidered himself  justified  in  placing  Mr. 
Abingdon  and  his  lady  under  arrest,  and 
Topcliffe  redoubled  his  exertions  to  dis- 
cover the  hiding-place  of  the  two  priests. 
He  examined  every  part  of  the  gallery 


most  carefully, — took  down  one  of  the 
chimney-pieces,  (singularly  enough  it  was 
the  wrong  one,)  but  was  still  unable  to 
discover  their  retreat. 

Meanwhile,  the  poor  wretches  inside 
found  it  impossible  to  endure  their  condi- 
tion longer.  Anything  seemed  preferable 
to  the  lingering  and  agonizing  death  they 
were  now  enduring,  and  they  resolved  to 
delay  their  surrender  no  longer.  Had  they 
been  able  to  hold  out  a  few  hours  more, 
they  would  have  escaped;  for  Sir  Henry 
Bromley  was  so  fatigued  with  the  search, 
and  so  satisfied  that  nothing  further  would 
come  of  it,  that  he  resolved,  notwithstand- 
ing Topcliffe's  efforts  to  dissuade  him,  to 
depart  on  the  morrow.  Of  this  they  were 
ignorant,  and  having  come  to  the  determi- 
nation to  surrender,  Garnet  opened  the 
entrance  to  the  chimney,  and  hearing 
voices  below,  and  being  too  feeble  to  get 
out  unassisted,  he  called  to  the  speakers 
for  aid.  His  voice  was  so  hollow,  and 
had  such  a  sepulchral  sound,  that  those 
who  heard  it  stared  at  each  other  in  aston- 
ishment and  affright. 

"  Who  calls!"  cried  one  of  the  troopers, 
after  a  pause. 

"  One  of  those  you  seek,"  replied  Gar- 
net.    "  Come  and  help  us  forth." 

Upon  hearing  this,  and  ascertaining 
whence  the  voice  came  from,  one  of  the 
men  ran  to  fetch  Sir  Henry  Bromley  and 
Topcliffe,  both  of  whom  joyfully  obeyed 
the  summons. 

"  Is  it  possible  they  can  be  in  the  chim- 
neyl"  cried  Topcliffe.  "  Why,  I  myself 
have  examined  it  twice." 

"  We  are  here,  nevertheless,"  replied 
Garnet,  who  heard  the  remark;  "  and  if 
yo|^would  take  us  alive,  lose  no  time." 

The  hint  was  not  lost  upon  Topcliffe. 
Casting  a  triumphant  look  at  Bromley,  he 
seized  a  torch  from  one  of  his  attendants, 
and  getting  into  the  chimney,  soon  perceiv- 
ed the  entrance  to  the  recess. 

On  beholding  his  prey,  he  uttered  an 
exclamation  of  joy,  and  the  two  miserable 
captives,  seeing  the  savage  and  exulting 
grin  that  lighted  up  his  features,  half  re- 
pented the  step  they  had  taken.  It  was 
now,  however,  too  late,  and  Garnet  begged 
him  to  help  them  out. 

"That  1  will  readily  do,  father,"  repli- 
ed Topcliffe.  "  You  have  given  us  a  world 
of  trouble.  But  you  have  made  ample 
amends  for  it  now." 

"  Had  we  been  so  minded,  you  would 
never  have  found  us,"  rejoined  Garnet. 
"  This  cell  would  have  been  our  sepul- 
chre." 

"  No  doubt,"  retorted  Topcliffe,  with  a 
bitter  laugh.  "  But  a  death  on  the  scaffold 
is  preferable  to  the  horrors  of  starvation." 

Finding  it  impossible  to  remove  Garnet, 


GUY     FAWKES. 


187 


whose  limbs  were  so  cramped  that  they 
refused  their  office — he  called  to  the  troop- 
ers below  to  bring  a  ladder,  which  was 
placed  in  the  chimney,  and  then,  with 
some  exertion,  he  succeeded  in  getting  him 
down.  This  done,  he  supported  hirn  to- 
wards Sir  Henry  Bromley,  who  was  stand- 
ing near  a  small  table  in  the  gallery. 

"  I  told  you  your  time  would  not  be 
thrown  away,  Sir  Henry,"  he  observed; 
"  here  is  Father  Garnet.  It  is  well  you 
yielded  yourself  to-night,  father,"  he  add- 
ed, to  Garnet,  with  his  customary  cynical 
chuckle;  *'  for  Sir  Henry  had  resolved  to 
depart  to-morrow." 


"Indeed!"  groaned  Garnet.  "Help me 
to  a  chair." 

While  this  was  passing,  Oldcorne  was 
brought  down  by  two  of  the  troopers,  and 
the  unfortunate  priests  were  conveyed  to 
an  adjoining  chamber,  where  they  were 
placed  in  a  bed,  their  stitfened  limbs  chafed, 
and  cordials  administered  to  them.  They 
were  reduced,  however,  to  such  extremity 
of  weakness,  that  it  was  not  judged  pru- 
dent to  remove  them  till  the  third  day, 
when  they,  together  with  their  two  ser- 
vants, Owen  and  Chambers,  who  were  as 
much  enfeebled  as  themselves,  were  con- 
veyed to  Worcester* 


CHAPTER    IX, 


WHITEHALL. 


Such  was  the  expedition  used  by  Hum- 
phrey Chetham  and  Viviana,  that  they  ac- 
complished the  journey  to  London  in  an 
extraordinarily  short  space  of  time.  Pro- 
ceeding direct  to  Whitehall,  Viviana  placed 
a  letter  in  the  hands  of  a  halberdier,  and 
desired  that  it  might  be  given  without  de- 
lay to  the  Earl  of  Salisbury.  After  some 
demur,  the  man  handed  it  to  an  usher,  who 
promised  to  lay  it  before  the  Earl.  Some 
time  elapsed  before  the  result  of  its  recep- 
tion was  known,  when  an  officer,  accagi- 
panied  by  two  sergeants  of  the  guard, 
made  bis  appearance,  and  commanded  Vi- 
viana and  her  companion  to  follow  him. 

Crossing  a  wide  hall,  which  was  filled 
with  the  various  retainers  of  the  palace, 
who  regarded  them  with  a  sort  of  listless 
curiosity,  and  ascending  a  flight  of  marble 
steps,  they  traversed  a  long  corridor,  and 
were  at  length  ushered  into  the  presence 
of  the  Earl  of  Salisbury.  He  was  seated 
at  a  table,  covered  with  a  multitude  of 
papers,  and  was  busily  employed  in  writ- 
ing a  despatch,  but  immediately  stopped 
on  their  entrance.  He  was  not  alone.  His 
companion  was  a  middle-aged  man,  attired 
in  a  suit  of  black  velvet,  with  a  cloak  of 
the  same  material;  bat  as  he  sat  with  his 
back  towards  the  door,  it  was  irapossib-le 
to  discern  his  features. 

"  You  may  leave  us,"  said  Salisbury  to 
the  officer,  "but  remain  without." 

"  And  be  ready  to  enter  at  a  raoment''s 
notice,"  added  his  companion  without 
altering  his  position* 

17 


The  officer  bowed,  and  retired  with  his 
followers. 

"  Your  surrender  of  yourself  at  this 
lime,  Viviana  Radcliffe,"  said  the  earl, 
"weighs  much  in  your  favour;  and  if  you 
are  disposed  freely  to  declare  all  you  know 
of  the  conspiracy,  it  is  not  impossible  that 
the  King  may  extend  his  mercy  towards 
you." 

"  I  do  not  desire  it,  my  lord,"  she  re- 
plied. "  In  surrendering  myself,  I  have 
no  other  aim  than  to  satisfy  the  laws  I 
have  outraged.  I  do  not  seek  to  defend 
myself,  but  I  desire  to  offer  an  explanation 
to  your  lordship.  Circumstances,  which 
it  is  needless  to  detail,  drew  me  into  con- 
nection with  the  conspirators,  and  I  became 
unwillingly  the  depositary  of  their  dark 
design." 

"You  were  guilty  of  misprision  of  trea- 
son in  not  revealing  it,"^  remarked  the  earl. 

"  1  am  aware  of  it,"  she  rejoined;  "but 
this,  I  take  heaven  to  witness,  is  the  ex- 
tent of  my  criminality.  I  held  the  pro- 
ject in  the  utmost  abhorrence,  and  used 
every  argument  I  was  mistress  of,  to  in- 
duce its  contrivers  to  abandon  it." 

"  If  such  were  the  case,"  demanded  the 
Earl,  "what  withheld  you  from  disclos- 
ing ill" 

"  I  will  now  confess  what  torture  could 
not  wring  from  me  before,"  she  replied. 
"I  was  restrained  from  the  disclosure  by 
a  fatal  passion." 

"  I  suspected  as  much,"  observed  the 
eail,  with  a  sneer.     "-For  whom'?" 


188 


GUY    FAWKE9. 


"  For  Guy  Fawkes,"  returned  Viviana. 

"  God's  mercy!  Guy  Fawkes!"  ejacu- 
lated the  Earl's  companion  starting  to  his 
feet.  And  turnintj  as  lie  spoke,  and  facing 
lier,  he  disclosed  heavy  but  not  unintel- 
lectual  features,  now  charged  with  an  ex- 
pression of theutmostastonishment.  "Did 
you  say  Guy  Fawkes,  mistress]" 

"It  is  the  King,"  whispered  Humphrey 
Chetham. 

"  yince  I  know  in  whose  presence  1 
stand,  sire,"  replied  Viviana,  "  I  will 
answer  the  interrogation.  Guy  Fawkes 
was  the  cause  of  my  concealing  my  ac- 
quaintance with  the  plot.  And  more,  I 
will  confess  to  your  Majesty,  that  much  as 
I  abhor  the  design,  if  he  had  not  been  a 
conspirator,  I  should  never  have  loved  him. 
His  sombre  and  enthusiastic  character  first 
gave  him  an  interest  in  my  eyes,  which, 
heightened  by  several  important  services 
which  he  rendered  me,  soon  ripened  into 
love.  Linked  to  his  fortunes,  shrouded 
by  the  same  gloomy  cloud  that  enveloped 
him,  and  bound  by  a  chain  from  which  I 
could  not  extricate  myself,  1  gave  him  my 
hand.  But  the  moment  of  our  union  was 
the  moment  of  our  separation.  We  have 
not  met  since,  and  shall  meet  no  more, 
unless  to  part  for  ever." 

"A  strange  historyl"  exclaimed  James, 
in  a  tone  that  showed  he  was  not  unmoved 
by  the  relation. 

"  I  beseech  your  Majesty  to  grant  me 
one  boon,"  cried  Viviana,  falling  at  his 
feet,  "it  is  to  be  allowed  a  single  inter- 
view with  my  husband — not  for  the  sad 
gratification  of  beholding  him  again — not 
for  the  indulgence  of  my  private  sorrows 
— but  that  [  may  endeavour  to  awaken  a 
feeling  of  repentance  in  his  breast,  and  be 
the  means  of  saving  his  soul  alive." 

"  My  inclinations  prompt  me  to  grant 
the  request,  Salisbury,"  said  the  King, 
irresolutely.  "  There  can  be  no  risk  in 
doing  it — ehV 

"  Not  under  certain  restrictions,  my 
liege,"  replied  the  earl. 

"  You  shall  have  your  wish,  then,  mis- 
tress," said  James,  "  and  I  trust  your 
eiforts  may  be  crowned  with  success. 
Your  husband  is  a  hardy  traitor — a  second 
Jacques  Clement — and  we  never  think  of 
him  without  the  floor  shaking  beneath  our 
feet,  and  a  horrible  smell  of  gunpowder 
assailing  our  nostrils.  Blessed  be  God 
for  our  preservation!  But  whom  have  we 
here]"  he  added,  turning  to  Humphrey 
Chetham.  "  Another  conspirator  come  to 
surrender  himself?" 

"No,  my  liege,"  replied  Chetham;  "1 
am  a  loyal  subject  of  your  Majesty,  and  a 
stanch  Protestant." 

"  If  we  may  take  your  word  for  it,  doubt- 
less," replied  the  king,  with  an  incredulous 


look.  "  But  how  come  you  in  this  lady's 
company]" 

"  I  will  hide  nothing  from  your  Majesty," 
replied  Chetham.  "  Long  before  Viviana's 
unhappy  acquaintance  with  Fawkes — for 
such  I  must  ever  consider  it — my  affec- 
tions had  been  fixed  upon  her,  and  I  fondly 
trusted  she  would  not  prove  indifferent  to 
my  suit.  Even  now,  sire,  when  all  hope 
is  dead  within  me,  I  have  not  been  able  to 
overcome  my  passion,  but  love  her  as  de- 
votedly as  ever.  When,  therefore,  she 
desired  my  escort  to  London  to  surrender 
herself,  I  could  not  refuse  the  request." 

"  It  is  the  truth,  my  liege,"  added  Vi- 
viana. "I  owe  Humphrey  Chetham  (for 
so  this  gentleman  is  named)  an  endless 
debt  of  gratitude;  and  not  the  least  of  my 
present  distresses  is  the  thought  of  the 
affliction  1  have  occasioned  him." 

"  Dismiss  it  from  your  mind,  then,  Vi- 
viana," rejoined  Chetham.  "It  will  not 
mitigate  my  sorrows  to  feel  that  I  have 
added  to  yours." 

"  Your  manner  and  looks  seem  to  give 
a  warranty  for  loyalty,  young  sir,"  said 
the  king.  "  But  1  must  have  some  assur- 
ance of  the  truth  of  your  statement  before 
you  are  set  at  large." 

"  I  am  your  willing  prisoner,  my  liege," 
returned  ('hetham.  "  But  I  have  a  letter 
for  the  Earl  of  Salisbury,  which  may  vouch 
perhaps  for  me." 

And  as  he  spoke,  he  placed  a  letter  in 
the  Earl's  hands,  who  broke  open  the  seal, 
and  hastily  glanced  at  its  contents. 

"  It  is  from  Doctor  Dee,"  he  said,  "  from 
whom,  as  your  Majesty  is  aware,  we  have 
received  much  important  information  rela- 
tive to  this  atrocious  design.  He  answers 
fo^his  young  man's  loyalty." 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  rejoined  the 
king.  "  It  would  have  been  mortifying  to 
be  deceived  by  so  honest  a  physiognomy." 

"  Your  Majesty  will  be  pleased  to  attach 
your  signature  to  this  warrant  for  Viviana 
Kadcliffe's  committal  to  the  Tower,"  said 
Salisbury,  placing  a  paper  before  him." 

James  complied,  and  the  earl  summoned 
the  guard. 

"  Have  I  your  Majesty's  permission  to 
attend  this  unfortunate  lady  to  the  fortress]" 
cried  Chetham,  prostrating  himself  before 
the  king. 

James  hesitated,  but  glancing  at  the  earl, 
and  reading  no  objection  in  his  looks,  he 
assented. 

Whispering  some  private  instructions  to 
the  officer  respecting  Chetham,  Salisbury 
delivered  the  warrant  to  him.  Viviana  and 
her  companion  were  then  removed  to  a 
chamber  adjoining  the  guard-room,  where 
they  remained  for  nearly  an  hour,  at  the 
expiration  of  which  time  the  officer  again 
appeared,  and  conducted  them  to  the  palace- 


GUY    FAWKES. 


189 


stairs,  where  a  large  wherry  awaited  them, 
in  which  they  embarked. 

James  did  not  remain  long  with  his 
councillor,  and  as  soon  as  he  had  retired, 
Salisbury  summoned  a  confidential  attend- 
ant, and  told  him  to  acquaint  Lord  Mount- 
eagle,  who  was  in  an  adjoining  apartment, 
that  he  was  now  able  to  receive  him.  The 
attendant  departed,  and  presently  returned 
with  the  nobleman  in  question.  As  soon 
as  they  were  alone,  and  Salisbury  had 
satisfied  himself  they  could  not  be  over- 
heard, he  observed  to  the  other, 

"  Since  Tresham's  committal  to  the 
Tower  yesterday,  I  have  received  a  letter 
from  the  lieutenant,  stating  that  he  breathes 
nothing  but  revenge  against  yourself  and 
me,  and  threatens  to  betray  us,  if  he  is  not 
released.  It  will  not  do  to  let  him  be  ex- 
amined by  the  council;  for  though  we  can 
throw  utter  discredit  on  his  statement,  ii 
may  be  prejudicial  to  my  future  designs." 

"True,  my  lord,"  replied  Mounteagle. 
"  But  how  do  you  propose  to  silence 
him]" 

"By  poison,"  returned  Salisbury. — 
"  There  is  a  trusty  fellow  in  the  Tower,  a 
jailor  named  Ipgreve,  who  will  administer 
it  to  him.  Here  is  the  powder,"  he  added, 
unlocking  a  coffer,  and  taking  out  a  small 
packet;  "  it  was  given  me  by  its  com- 
pounder, Doctor  Dee.     It  is  the  same,  I  am 


assured,  as  the  celebrated  Italian  poison 
prepared  by  Pope  Alexander  the  Sixth;  is 
without  scent  or  taste;  and  destroys  its  vic- 
tim, without  leaving  a  trace  of  its  effects." 

"I  must  take  heed  how  I  offend  your 
lordship,"  observed  Mounteagle. 

"Nay,"  rejoined  Salisbury,  with  a  ghast- 
ly smile,  "it  is  for  traitors  like  Tresham, 
not  true  men  like  you,  to  fear  me." 

"  I  understand  the  distinction,  my  lord," 
replied  the  other. 

"  I  must  intrust  the  entire  management 
of  this  affair  to  you,"  pursued  Salisbury. 

"To  me!"  exclaimed  Mounteagle.  "Tre- 
sham is  my  brother-in-law.  1  can  take  no 
part  in  his  murder." 

"If  he  lives,  you  are  ruined,"  rejoined 
Salisbury,  coldly.  "  You  must  sacrifice 
him  or  yourself.  But  I  see  you  are  reason- 
able. Take  this  powder,  and  proceed  to 
the  Tower.  See  Ipgreve  alone,  and  in- 
struct him  to  drug  Tresham's  wine  with  it. 
A  hundred  marks  shall  be  his  reward  when 
the  deed  is  done." 

"  My  soul  revolts  from  the  deed,"  said 
Mounteagle,  as  he  took  the  packet.  "  Is 
there  no  other  way  of  silencing  him." 

"  None,  whatever,"  replied  Salisbury, 
sternly.  "  His  blood  be  upon  his  own 
head." 

With  this,  Mounteagle  took  his  depar- 
ture. 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE  PARTING  OF  VIVIA.NA  AND  HUMPHREY  CHETHAM. 


Humphrey  Chetham  was  so  oppressed 
by  the  idea  of  parting  with  Viviana  that 
he  did  not  utter  a  single  word  during  their 
transit  to  the  Tower.  Passing  beneath  the 
gloomy  archway  of  Traitor's  Gate,  they 
mounted  the  fatal  steps,  and  were  con- 
ducted to  the  guard-room  near  the  By-ward 
Tower.  The  officer  then  despatched  one 
of  the  warders  to  inform  the  lieutenant  of 
Viviana's  arrival,  and  telling  Humphrey 
Cheiham  he  would  allow  him  a  few  mi- 
nutes to  take  leave  of  her,  considerately 
withdrew,  and  left  them  alone  together. 

"Oh!  Viviana!"  exclaimed  Chetham, 
unable  to  repress  his  grief,  "  my  heart 
bleeds  to  see  you  here.  If  you  repent  the 
step  you  have  taken,  and  desire  freedom, 
say  so,  and  I  will  use  every  effort  to  liber- 
ate you.  I  have  been  successful  once,  and 
may  be  so  again." 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  devotion,"  she 
replied,  in  a  tone  of  profound  gratitude; 
"  but  you  have  rendered  me  the  last  service 


I  shall  ever  require  of  you.  I  deeply  de- 
plore the  misery  I  have  occasioned  yon, 
and  regret  my  inability  to  requite  your  at- 
tachment as  it  deserves  to  be  requited. 
My  last  prayer  shall  be  for  your  happiness; 
and  I  trust  you  will  meet  with  some  being 
worthy  of  you,  and  who  will  make  amends 
for  my  insensibility." 

"  Be  not  deceived,  Viviana,"  replied 
Chetham  in  a  broken  voice,  "I shall  never 
love  again.  Your  image  is  too  deeply  im- 
printed upon  my  heart  ever  to  be  effaced." 

"Time  may  work  a  change,"  she  re- 
joined; "  though  I  ought  not  to  say  so,  for 
I  feel  it  would  work  none  in  me.  Suffer 
me  to  give  you  one  piece  of  counsel.  De- 
vote yourself  resolutely  to  the  business 
of  life,  and  you  will  speedily  regain  your 
peace  of  mind." 

"I  will  follow  your  instructions  impli- 
citly," replied  Chetham;  "but  have  little 
hope  of  the  result  you  promise  me." 

"  Let  the  effort  be  made,"  she  rejoined; 


190 


GUY    FAWKES. 


— "and  now  promise  me  to  quit  London 
to-morrow.  Return  to  your  native  town; 
emplo)'  yourself  in  your  former  occupa- 
tions; and  strive  not  to  think  of  the  past, 
except  as  a  troubled  dream  from  which 
you  have  fortunately  awakened.  Do  not 
let  us  prolonjj  our  partinjj,  or  your  resolu- 
tion may  waver.     Farewell!" 

So  saying,  she  extended  her  hand  to- 
wards hiin,  and  he  pressed  it  passionately 
to  his  lips, 

"  Farewell,  Viviana!"  he  cried  with  a 
look  of  unutterable  anguish.  "  May  Hea- 
ven support  you  in  your  trials!" 

"  One  of  them  I  am  now  enduring,"  she 
replied,  in  a  broken  voice.  "  Farewell  for 
ever,  and  may  all  good  angels  bless  you!" 

At  this  moment,  the  officer  appeared, 
and  announcing  the  approach  of  the  lieu- 
tenant, told  Clietham  that  his  time  had 
expired.  Without  hazarding  another  look 
at  Viviana,  the  young  merchant  tore  him- 
self away,  and  followed  the  officer  out  of 
the  Tower. 


Obedient  to  Viviana's  last  request,  he 
quitted  London  on  the  following  day,  and 
acting  upon  her  advice  devoted  himself  on 
his  return  to  Manchester  sedulously  to  his 
mercantile  pursuits.  His  perseverance  and 
integrity  were  crowned  with  entire  suc- 
cess, and  he  became  in  due  season  the 
wealthiest  merchant  of  the  town.  But  the 
blighting  of  his  early  affections  tinged  his 
whole  life,  and  gave  a  melancholy  to  his 
thoughts,  and  an  austerity  to  his  manner 
originally  foreign  to  them.  True  to  his 
promise,  he  died  unmarried.  His  long  and 
worthy  career  was  marked  by  actions  of 
the  greatest  benevolence.  In  proportion 
as  his  means  increased,  his  charities  were 
extended,  and  he  truly  became  "  a  father 
to  the  fatherless  and  the  destitute."  To 
him  the  town  of  Manchester  is  indebted 
for  the  noble  library  and  hospital  bearing 
his  name;  and  for  these  admirable  institu- 
tions by  which  they  so  largely  benefit,  his 
memory  must  ever  be  held  in  veneration 
by  its  inhabitants. 


CHAPTER  XI, 


THE  SUBTERRANEAN  DUNGEON, 


Regarding  Viviana  with  a  smile  of 
savage  satisfaction.  Sir  William  Waad 
commanded  Jasper  Ipgreve,  who  accom- 
panied him,  to  convey  her  to  one  of  the 
subterranean  dungeons  below  the  Devereux 
Tower. 

"  She  cannot  escape  thence  without 
your  connivance,"  he  said;  "and  you  shall 
answer  to  me  for  her  safe  custody  with 
your  life^" 

"  If  she  escapes  again,  your  worship 
shall  hang  me  in  her  stead,"  rejoined  Ip- 
greve. 

"  My  instructions  from  the  Earl  of  Salis- 
bury state  that  it  is  the  King's  pleasure 
that  she  be  allowed  a  short  interview  with 
Guy  Fawkes,"  said  the  lieutenant,  in  a 
low  tone.  "  Let  her  be  taken  to  his  cell 
to-morrow." 

The  jailer  bowed,  and  motioning  the 
guard  to  follow  him  with  Viviana,  he  led 
the  way  along  the  inner  ward  till  he  ar- 
rived at  a  small  strong  door  in  the  wall  a 
little  to  the  north  of  the  Beauchamp 
Tower,  which  he  unlocked,  and  descended 
into  a  low  cavenious-looking  vault.  Strik- 
ing a  light,  and  setting  fire  to  a  torch,  he 
then  led  the  way  along  a  narrow  gloomy 
passage,  which  brouglit  thetn  to  a  circular 
chamber,  from  which  other  passages  di- 
verged, and  selecting  one  of  them,  threaded 
it  till  he  came  to  the  door  of  a  cell. 


"  Here  is  your  dungeon,''  he  said  to 
Viviana,  as  he  drew  back  the  heavy  bolts, 
and  disclosed  a  small  chamber,  about  four 
feet  wide  and  six  long,  in  which  there  was 
a  pallet.  "  My  dame  will  attend  you 
soon." 

With  this,  he  lighted  a  lamp,  and  de- 
parting with  the  guard,  barred  the  door 
outside.  Viviana  shuddered  as  she  sur- 
veyed the  narrow  dungeon  in  which  she 
was  placed.  Roof,  walls,  and  floor  were 
of  stone,  and  the  aspect  of  the  place  was 
so  dismal  and  tomb-like,  that  she  felt  as  if 
she  were  buried  alive.  Some  hours 
elapsed  before  Dame  Ipgreve  made  her 
appearance.  She  was  accompanied  by 
Ruth,  who  burst  into  tears  on  beholding 
Viviana.  The  jailer's  wife  had  brought  a 
few  blankets  and  other  necessaries  with 
her,  together  with  a  loaf  of  bread,  and  a 
jug  of  water.  While  disposing  the  blank- 
ets on  the  oouch,  she  never  ceased  up- 
braiding Viviana  for  her  former  flight. 
Poor  Ruth,  who  was  compelled  to  assist 
her  mother,  endeavoured  by  her  gestures 
and  looks  to  convey  to  the  unfortunate  cap- 
tive that  she  was  as  much  devoted  to  her 
as  ever.  Their  task  completed,  the  old 
woman  withdrew,  and  her  daughter,  cast- 
ing a  deeply-commiserating  look  at  Vi- 
viana, followed  her,  and  the  door  was 
barred  without. 


GUY    FAWKES. 


191 


Determined  not  to  yield  to  despondency, 
Viviana  knelt  down,  and  addressed  herself 
to  Heaven;  and,  comforted  by  her  prayers, 
threw  herself  on  the  bed,  and  sank  into  a 
peaceful  slumber.  She  was  awakened  by 
hearing  the  bolts  of  her  cell  withdrawn, 
and  the  next  moment,  Ruth  stood  before 
her. 

"I  fear  you  have  exposed  yourself  to 
great  risk  in  thus  visiting  me,"  said  Vivi- 
ana, tenderly  embracing  her. 

"  I  would  expose  myself  to  any  risk  for 
you,  sweet  lady,"  replied  Ruth.  "  But, 
oh!  why  do  I  see  you  here  again.  The 
chief  support  of  Guy  Fawkes  during  his 
sufferings  has  been  the  thought  that  you 
were  at  liberty." 

"  I  surrendered  myself  in  the  hope  of 
beholding  him  again,"  rejoined  Viviana. 

"  Yon  have  given  a  fond,  but  fatal  proof 
of  your  affection,"  returned  Ruth.  "The 
knowledge  that  you  are  a  captive  will 
afflict  him  more  than  all  the  torments  he 
has  endured." 

"  What  torments  has  he  endured,  Ruth?" 
inquired  Viviana  with  a  look  of  anguish. 

"  Do  not  ask  me  to  repeat  them,"  repli- 
ed the  jailer's  daughter.  "  They  are  too 
dreadful  to  relate.  When  you  behold  his 
shattered  frame  and  altered  looks,  you 
will  comprehend  what  he  has  undergone." 

"Alas!"  exclaimed  Viviana,  bursting 
into  tears,  "  1  almost  fear  to  behold  him." 

"You  must  prepare  for  a  fearful  shock," 
returned  Ruth.  "  And  now,  madam,  1 
must  take  my  leave.  1  will  endeavour  to 
see  you  again  to-morrow,  but  dare  not  pro- 
mise to  do  so.  I  should  not  have  been 
able  to  visit  you  now,  but  that  my  father 
is  engaged  with  Lord  Mounteagle." 

"With  Lord  Mounteagle!"  cried  Vivi- 
ana.    "  Upon  what  business!" 

"  Upon  a  foul  business,"  rejoined  Ruth. 
"No  less  than  the  destruction  of  Mr. 
Tresham,  who  is  now  a  prisoner  in  the 
Tower.  Lord  Mounteagle  came  to  the 
Well  Tower  this  evening,  and  I  accident- 
ally overheard  him  propose  to  my  father 
to  administer  poison  to  the  person  1  have 
named." 

"1  do  not  pity  their  victim,"  returned 
Viviana.  "  He  is  a  double-dyed  traitor, 
and  will  meet  with  the  faie  he  deserves." 

"Farewell,  madam,"  said  Ruth.  "If 
I  do  not  see  you  again,  you  will  know  that 
you  have  one  friend  in  this  fortress  who 
deeply  sympathises  with  your  afllictions." 

So  saying,  she  withdrew,  and  Viviana 
heard  the  bolts  slipped  gently  into  their 
sockets. 

Vainly, after  Ruth's  visit,  did  she  try  to 
compose  herself.  Sleep  fled  her  eyes,  and 
she  was  haunted  all  night  by  the  image  of 
Fawkes,  haggard  and  shattered  by  torture, 
as  he  had   been  described   by  the  jailer's 


daughter.  Day  and  night  were  the  same 
to  her,  and  she  could  only  compute  pro- 
gress of  the  time  by  her  own  feelings, 
judging  by  which,  she  supposed  it  to  be 
late  in  the  day  when  she  was  again  visited. 
The  bolts  of  her  cell  being  withdrawn, 
two  men  clad  in  long  black  gowns,  and 
having  hoods  drawn  over  their  faces,  en- 
tered it.  They  were  followed  by  Ipgreve; 
and  Viviana,  concluding  she  was  about  to 
be  led  to  the  torture,  endeavoured  to  string 
herself  to  its  endurance.  Though  he 
guessed  what  was  passing  in  her  breast, 
jasper  Tpgreve  did  not  care  to  undeceive 
her,  but  motioning  the  hooded  officials  to 
follow  him  with  her,  quitted  the  cell.  Seiz- 
ing each  a  hand,  the  attendants  led  her 
after  him  along  a  number  of  intricate  pas- 
sages, until  he  stopped  before  the  door  of 
a  cell,  which  he  opened. 

"  Be  brief  in  what  you  have  to  say,"  he 
cried,  thrusting  her  forward.  "  1  shall 
not  allow  you  much  time." 

Viviana  no  sooner  set  foot  in  the  cell 
than  she  felt  in  whose  presence  she  stood. 
On  a  stool  at  the  further  end  of  the  narrow 
chamber,  with  his  head  upon  his  breast, 
and  a  cloak  wrapped  around  his  limbs,  sat 
Fawkes.  A  small  iron  lamp,  suspended 
by  a  rusty  chain  from  the  ceiling,  served 
to  illumine  his  ghastly  features.  He  lifted 
his  eyes  from  the  ground  on  her  entrance, 
and  recognising  her,  uttered  a  cry  of  an- 
guish. Raising  himself  by  a  great  effort, 
he  opened  his  arms,  and  she  rushed  into 
them.  For  some  moments,  both  continued 
silent.  Grief  took  away  their  utterance; 
but  at  length,  Guy  Fawkes  spoke. 

"  My  cup  of  bitterness  was  not  suffi- 
ciently full,"  he  said.  "This  alone  was 
wanting  to  make  it  overflow." 

"  I  fear  you  will  blame  me,"  she  re- 
plied, "  when  you  learn  that  I  have  volun- 
tarily surrendered  myself." 

Guy  Fawkes  uttered  a  deep  groan. 

"  1  am  the  cause  of  your  doing  so,"  he 
said. 

"  You  are  so,"  she  replied.  "  But  you 
will  forgive  me  when  you  know  my  mo- 
tive. 1  came  here  to  urge  you  to  repent- 
ance. Oh!  if  you  hope  that  we  shall  meet 
again  hereafter — if  you  hope  that  we  shall 
inherit  joys  which  will  requite  us  for  all 
our  troubles,  you  will  employ  the  brief 
time  left  you  on  earth  in  imploring  for- 
givness  for  your  evil  intentions." 

"  Having  had  no  evil  intentions,"  re- 
plied Fawkes  coldly,  "1  have  no  pardon 
to  ask." 

"The  Tempter  who  led  you  into  the 
commission  of  sin  under  the  semblance  of 
righteousness,  puts  these  thoughts  into 
your  heart,"  replied  Viviana.  "  Vou  have 
escaped  the  commission  of  an  offence  which 
must  have  deprived  you  of  the  joys  of  hea- 

17* 


193 


GUY    FAWKES. 


ven,  and  I  am  thankful  for  it.  But  if  you 
remain  impenitent,  I  shall  tremble  for  your 
salvation," 

"  My  account  will  soon  be  settled  with 
my  Maker,"  rejoined  Fawkes;  "and  he 
will  punish  or  reward  me  according  to  my 
deserts.  I  have  acted  according  to  my 
conscience,  and  can  never  repent  that 
which  I  believe  to  be  a  righteous  design." 

"  But  do  you  not  now  see  that  you  were 
mistaken,"  returned  Viviana, — "  do  you 
not  perceive  that  the  sword  which  you 
raised  against  others  has  been  turned 
against  yourself, — and  that  the  Great 
Power  whom  you  serve  and  worship  has 
declared  himself  against  you?" 

"  You  seek  in  vain  to  move  me,"  replied 
Fawkes.  "  I  am  as  insensible  to  your 
arguments  as  to  the  tortures  of  my  ene- 
mies." 

"  Then  Heaven  have  mercy  upon  your 
soul!"  she  rejoined. 

"  Look  at  me,  Viviana,"  cried  Fawkes, 
"  and  behold  the  wreck  I  am.  What  has 
supported  me  amid  my  tortures — in  this 
dungeon — in  the  presence  of  my  relentless 
foes? — what,  but  the  consciousness  of  hav- 
ing acted  rightly]  And  what  will  support 
me  on  the  scaffold  except  the  same  con- 
viction? If  you  love  me,  do  not  seek  to 
shake  my  faith"?  But  it  is  idle  to  talk  thus. 
You  cannot  do  so.  Rest  satisfied  we  shall 
)neet  again.  Everything  assures  me  of  it. 
Wretched  as  I  appear  in  this  solitary  cell, 


I  am  not  wholly  miserable,  because  I  am 
buoyed  up  by  the  certainty  that  my  actions 
are  approved  by  Heaven." 

"  1  will  not  attempt  to  destroy  the  de- 
lusion, since  it  is  productive  of  happiness 
to  you,"  replied  Viviana.  "  But  if  my 
earnest,  heartfelt  prayers  can  conduce  to 
your  salvation,  they  shall  not  be  wanting." 

As  she  spoke  the  door  of  the  cell  was 
opened  by  Jasper  Ipgreve,  who  stepped 
towards  her,  and  seized  her  roughly  by  the 
hand. 

"  Your  time  has  expired,  mistress,"  he 
said,  "you  must  come  with  me." 

"  A  minute  longer,"  implored  Fawkes. 

"Not  a  second,"  replied  Ipgreve. 

"Shall  we  not  meet  again]"  cried  Vi- 
viana, distractedly. 

"  Ay,  the  day  before  your  execution," 
rejoined  Ipgreve.  "  I  have  good  news  for 
you,"  he  added,  pausing  for  a  moment,  and 
addressing  Fawkes.  "  Mr.  Tresham,  who 
I  told  you  has  been  brought  to  the  Tow'er, 
has  been  taken  suddenly  and  dangerouslv 
ill." 

"  If  the  traitor  perishes  before  me,  I 
shall  die  content,"  observed  Fawkes. 

"  Then  rest  assured  of  it,"  said  Viviana. 
"The  task  of  vengeance  is  already  ful- 
filled." 

She  was  then  forced  away  by  Ipgreve, 
and  delivered  by  him  to  the  hooded  officials 
outside,  who  hurried  her  back  to  her  dun- 
geon. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


THE  TRAITOR  BETRAYED. 


Loan  MouNTEAGLE  arrived  at  the  Tower 
shortly  after  Viviana,  and  repairing  at  once 
to  the  lieutenant's  lodgings,  had  a  brief 
conference  with  him,  and  informed  him 
that  he  had  a  secret  order  to  deliver  to 
Jasper  Ipgreve,  from  the  Earl  of  Salisbury, 
touching  the  conspirators.  Sir  William 
Waad  would  have  summoned  the  jailer; 
but  Mounteagle  preferred  visiting  liim  at 
the  Well  Tower,  and  accordingly  proceed- 
ed thither. 

He  found  Ipgreve  with  his  wife  and 
daughter,  and  telling  him  he  desired  a  mo- 
ment's private  speech  with  him,  the  jailer 
dismissed  them.  Suspecting  that  the  new- 
comer's errand  related  in  some  way  to 
Viviana,  Ruth  contrived  to  place  herself 
in  such  a  situation  tliat  she  could  overhear 
what  passed.  A  moment's  scrutiny  of 
Jasper's  villanous  countenance  satisfied 
Mounteagle  that  the  Earl  of  Salisbury  was 
not  mistaken  in  his  man;  and,  as  soon  as 


he  supposed  they  were  alone,  he  unhesitat- 
ingly opened  his  plan  to  him.  As  he  ex- 
pected, Jasper  exhibited  no  reluctance  to 
undertake  it;  and,  after  some  further  dis- 
cussion, it  was  agreed  to  put  it  in  execution 
without  delay. 

"The  sooner  Mr.  Tresham  is  silenced 
the  better,"  said  Jasper;  "  for  he  threatens 
to  make  disclosures  to  the  Council  that 
will  bring  some  noble  persons,"  with  a 
significant  look  at  Mounteagle,  "  into  trou- 
ble." 

"  Where  is  he  confined?"  demanded  the 
other. 

"In  the  Beauchamp  Tower,"  replied 
Ipgreve. 

"I  will  visit  him  at  once,"  said  Mount- 
eagle; "  and  when  I  have  conferred  with 
him,  will  call  for  wine.  Bring  two  goblets, 
and  in  that  which  you  give  to  Tresham 
place  this  powder." 

Ipgreve  nodded  assent,  and  with  a  grim 


GUY    FAWKES. 


193 


smile  took  the  packet.  Shortly  after  this, 
they  quitted  the  Well  Tower  tocrether,  and 
passing  under  the  archway  of  the  Bloody 
Tower,  crossed  the  green,  and  entered  the 
fortification  in  which  the  traitor  was  con- 
lined.  Tresham  was  treated  with  far  greater 
consideration  than  the  other  conspirators, 
heing  allowed  the  use  of  the  large  room  on 
the  upper  floor  of  the  Beauchamp  Tower, 
which  was  seldom  allotted  to  any  persons 
except  those  of  the  highest  distinction. 
When  they  entered,  he  was  pacing  to  and 
fro  within  his  chamber  in  great  agitation, 
but  he  immediately  stopped  on  seeing 
Mounteagle,  and  rushed  towards  him. 

•'  You  bring  me  my  liberationl"  he  said. 

"  It  is  impossible  to  effect  it  at  present," 
returned  the  other.  "But  make  yourself 
perfectly  easy.  Your  confinement  will  not 
be  of  long  duration." 

"I  will  not  be  trifled  with,"  cried  Tre- 
sham, furiously.  "If  I  am  examined  by 
the  Council,  look  to  yourselves.  As  I 
hope  for  salvation,  the  truth  shall  out." 

"  Leave  us,"  said  Mounteagle,  with  a 
significant  look  at  the  jailer,  who  quitted 
the  chamber. 

"  Hark'e,  Mounteagle,"  said  Tresham, 
as  soon  as  they  were  alone,  "I  have  been 
your  tool  thus  far.  But  if  you  propose  to 
lead  me  blindfold  to  the  scafl'old,  you  are 
greatly  mistaken.  You  think  that  you  have 
me  safe  within  these  walls;  that  my  voice 
cannot  be  heard;  and  that  I  cannot  betray 
you.  But  you  are  deceived — fearfully 
deceived,  as  you  will  find.  I  have  your 
letters — the  Earl  of  Salisbury's  letters, 
proving  that  you  were  both  aware  of  the 
plot — and  that  you  employed  me  to  watch 
its  progress,  and  report  it  to  you.  I  have 
also  letters  from  Doctor  Dee,  the  warden 
of  Manchester,  detailing  his  acquaintance 
with  the  conspiracy,  and  containing  de- 
scriptions of  the  persons  of  Fawkes  and 
Catesby,  which  1  showed  to  the  Earl  of 
Salisbury. — These  letters  are  now  in  my 
possession,  and  I  will  deliver  them  to  the 
Council,  if  1  am  not  released." 

"  Deliver  them  to  me,  and  I  swear  to 
you,  you  shall  be  set  free,"  said  Mount- 
eagle. 

"  I  will  not  trust  you,"  rejoined  Tre- 
sham. "  Liberate  me,  and  they  are  yours. 
But  1  will  not  rob  myself  of  vengeance. 
I  will  confound  you  and  the  false  Earl  of 
Salisbury." 

"You  wrong  us  both  by  your  unjust 
suspicions,"  said  Mount(!agle. 

"  Wrong  you!"  echoed  Tresham,  con- 
temptuously. "  Where  is  my  promised 
reward?  Why  am  1  in  this  dungeon] 
Why  am  I  treated  like  a  traitor]  If  you 
meant  me  fairly,  I  should  not  be  here,  but 
like  yourself  at  liberty,  and  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  the  King's  favour.     But  you  have 


duped  me,  villain,  and  shall  rue  it.  If  I 
am  led  to  the  scaffold,  it  shall  be  in  your 
company." 

"  Compose  yourself,"  rejoined  Mount- 
eagle, calmly.  "  Appearances,  I  own, 
are  against  us.  But  circumstances  ren- 
der it  imperatively  necessary  that  the  Earl 
of  Salisbury  should  appear  to  act  against 
you.  You  have  been  charged  by  Guy 
Fawkes,  when  under  the  torture,  of  being 
a  confederate  in  the  design,  and  your  ar- 
rest could  not  be  avoided.  I  am  come 
hither  to  give  you  a  solemn  assurance  that 
no  harm  shall  befall  you,  but  that  you  shall 
be  delivered  from  your  thraldom  in  a  few 
days — perhaps  in  a  few  hours." 

"  You  have  no  further  design  against 
me!"  said  Tresham,  suspiciously. 

"  What  motive  could  I  have  in  coming 
hither,  except  to  set  your  mind  at  rest?" 
rejoined  Mounteagle. 

"  And  I  shall  receive  my  reward?"  de- 
manded Tresham. 

"  You  will  receive  your  reward,"  re- 
turned Mounteagle,  with  significant  em- 
phasis. "  I  swear  it.  So  make  yourself 
easy." 

"  If  I  thought  I  might  trust  you,  I  should 
not  heed  my  imprisonment,  irksome  though 
it  be,"  rejoined  Tresham. 

"  It  cannot  be  avoided,  for  the  reasons  I 
have  just  stated,"  replied  Mounteagle. 
"  But  come,  no  more  despondency.  All 
will  be  well  with  you  speedily.  Let  us 
drown  care  in  a  bumper.  What  hoi  jailer," 
he  added,  opening  the  door,  "  a  cup  of 
wine!" 

In  a  few  minutes,  Ipgreve  made  his  ap- 
pearance, bearing  two  goblets  filled  with 
wine  on  a  salver,  one  of  which  he  pre- 
sented to  Mounteagle,  and  the  other  to 
Tresham. 

"  Here  is  to  your  speedy  deliverance 
from  captivity!"  said  Mounteagle,  draining 
the  goblet.  "  You  will  not  refuse  that 
pledge,  Tresham?" 

"  Of  a  surety  not,"  replied  the  other. 
"To  my  speedy  deliverance!" 

And  he  emptied  the  cup,  while  Mount- 
eagle and  the  jailer  exchanged  significant 
glances. 

"  And  now,  having  fully  discharged  my 
errand,  I  must  bid  you  farewell,"  said 
Mounteagle. 

"  You  will  not  forget  your  promise?" 
observed  Tresham. 

"  Assuredly  not,"  replied  the  other. 
"  A  week  hence,  and  you  will  make  no 
complaint  against  me. — Are  you  sure  you 
did  not  give  me  the  wrong  goblet?"  he 
added  to  Ipgreve,  as  they  descended  the 
spiral  staircase. 

"Quite  sure,  my  lord,"  returned  the 
jailer,  with  a  grim  smile. 

Mounteagle    immediately    quitted    the 


194 


GUY    FAWKES. 


Tower,  and  hastening  to  Whitehall,  sought 
out  the  Earl  of  Salisbury,  to  whom  he  re- 
lated what  he  had  done.  The  earl  com- 
plimented him  on  hi3  skilful  management 
of  the  matter;  and  congratulating  each 
other  upon  having  got  rid  of  a  dangerous, 
and  now  useless  instrument,  they  separated. 
On  the  following  day,  Tresham  was 
seized  with  a  sudden  illness,  and  making 
known  his  symptoms  to  Ipgreve,  the  chi- 
rurgeon  who  attended  the  prison  was  sent 
for,  and  on  seeing  him  pronounced  him 
dangerously  ill,  though  he  was  at  a  loss 
to  explain  the  nature  of  his  disorder. 
Every  hour,  the  sick  man  grew  worse, 
and  he  was  torn  with  racking  pains.  Con- 
necting his  sudden  seizure  with  tlie  visit 
of  Lord  Mounteagle,  an  idea  of  the  truth 
flashed  upon  him,  and  he  mentioned  his 
suspicions  to  the  chirurgeon,  charging  Jas- 
per Ipgreve  with  being  accessory  to  the 
deed.  The  jailer  stoutly  denied  the  accu- 
sation, and  charged  the  prisoner  in  his 
turn  with  making  a  malicious  statement  to 
bring  him  into  discredit. 

"  1  will  soon  test  the  truth  of  his  asser- 
tion," observed  the  chirurgeon,  taking  a 
small  flat  piece  of  the  purest  gold  from  his 
doublet.     "  Place  this  in  your  mouth." 

Tresham  obeyed,  and  Ipgreve  watched 
the  experiment  with  gloomy  curiosity. 

"  You  are  a  dead  man,"  said  the  chi- 
rurgeon to  Tresham,  as  he  drew  forth  the 
piece  of  gold,  and  perceived  that  it  was 
slifhtly  tarnished.  "  Poison  has  been  ad- 
ministered to  you." 

"  Is  there  no  remedy — no  counter-poi- 
son'?" demanded  Tresham,  eagerly. 
The  chirurgeon  shook  his  head. 
"  Then  let  the  lieutenant  be  summoned," 
said  Tresham;  "  I  have  an  important  con- 
fession to  make  to  him.  I  charge  this 
man,"  pointing  to  the  jailer,  "  with  giving 
poisoned  wine  to  me.  Do  you  hear  what 
I  say  to  you]" 

"  1  do,"  replied  the  chirurgeon. 
"  But  he  will  never  reveal  it,"  said  Ip- 
greve with  great  unconcern.     "  I  have  a 
warrant   from   the   Earl  of  Salisbury  for 
what  I  have  done." 

"  What!"  cried  Tresham,  "  can  murder 
be  committed  here  with  impunity?" 

"You  have  to  thank  your  own  indiscretion 
for  what  has  happened,"  rejoined  Ipgreve. 
"  Had  you  kept  a  close  tongue  in  your  head, 
you  would  have  been  safe." 

"  Can  nothing  be  done  to  save  me?" 
cried  the  miserable  man,  with  an  implor- 
ing look  at  the  chirurgeon. 

"  Nothing  whatever,"  replied  the  person 
appealed  to.  "I  would  advise  you  to  re- 
commend your  soul  to  God." 

"  Will  you  not  inform  the  lieutenant 
that  I  desire  to  speak  with  him?"  demanded 
Tresham. 


The  chirurgeon  glanced  at  Ipgreve,  and 
receiving  a  sign  from  him,  gave  a  promise 
to  that  effect. 

They  then  quitted  the  cell  together,  leav- 
ing Tresham  in  a  state  of  indescribable 
agony  both  of  mind  and  body.  Half  an 
hour  afterwards,  the  chirurgeon  returned, 
and  informed  him  that  the  lieutenant  re- 
fused to  visit  him,  or  to  hearliis  confession, 
and  wholly  discredited  the  fact  of  his  being 
poisoned. 

"  I  will  take  charge  of  your  papers,  if 
you  choose  to  commit  them  to  me,"  he 
said,  "  and  will  lay  them  before  the  Coun- 
cil." 

"  No,"  replied  Tresham;  "  while  life  re- 
mains to  me  I  will  never  part  with  them." 

"  I  have  brought  you  a  mixture  which, 
though  it  cannot  heal  you,  will,  at  least, 
allay  your  sutTerings,"  said  the  chirurgeon. 

"  I  will  not  take  it,"  groaned  Tresham. 
"  I  distrust  you  as  much  as  the  others." 

"  I  will  leave  it  with  you,  at  all  events," 
rejoined  the  chirurgeon,  setting  down  the 
phial. 

The  noise  of  the  bolls  shot  into  their 
sockets  sounded  to  Tresham  as  if  his  tomb 
were  closed  upon  him,  and  he  uttered  a  cry 
of  anguish.  He  would  have  laid  violent 
hands  upon  himself,  and  accelerated  his 
own  end,  but  he  wanted  courage  to  do  so, 
and  continued  to  pace  backwards  and  for- 
wards across  his  chamber  as  long  as  his 
strength  lasted.  He  was  about  to  throw 
himself  on  the  couch,  from  which  he  never 
expected  to  rise  again,  when  his  eyes  fell 
npon  the  phial.  "  What  if  it  should  be 
poison!"  he  said,  "  it  will  end  my  suffer- 
ings the  sooner." 

And  placing  it  to  his  lips,  he  swallowed 
its  contents.  As  the  chirurgeon  had  fore- 
told, it  alleviated  his  sufferings,  and  throw- 
ing himself  on  the  bed  he  sank  into  a 
troubled  slumber,  during  which  he  dreamed 
that  Catesby  appeared  to  him  with  a  venge- 
ful countenance,  and  tried  to  drag  him  into 
a  fathomless  abyss  that  yawned  beneath 
their  feet.  Shrieking  with  agony,  he 
awoke,  and  found  two  persons  standing 
by  his  couch.  One  of  them  was  the  jailer, 
and  the  other  appeared,  from  his  garb,  to 
be  a  priest;  but  the  hood  was  drawn  over 
his  head  so  as  to  conceal  his  features. 

"  Are  you  come  to  witness  my  dying 
pangs,  or  to  finish  me?"  demanded  Tre- 
sham of  the  jailer. 

"I  am  come  for  neither  purpose,"  replied 
Ipgreve;  "I  pity  your  condition,  and  have 
brought  you  a  priest  of  your  own  faith,  who 
like  yourself  is  a  prisoner  in  the  Tower.  I 
will  leave  him  with  you,  but  he  cannot  re- 
main long,  so  make  the  most  of  your  time." 
And  with  these  words,  he  retired. 

When  he  was  gone,  the  supposed  priest, 
who  spoke  in  feeble  and  faltering  accents, 


GUY    FAWKES. 


195 


desired  to  hear  Tresham's  confession,  and 
having  listened  to  it,  gave  him  absolution. 
The  wretched  man  then  drew  from  his 
bosom  a  small  packet,  and  offered  it  to  the 
confessor,  who  eagerly  received  it. 

"  This  contains  the  letters  of  ihe  Earl  of 
Salisbury  and  Lord  Mounteagle,  wliich  I 
have  just  mentioned,"  he  said.  "1  pray 
you  lay  them  before  the  Privy  Council." 

"I  will  not  fail  to  do  so,"  replied  the 
confessor. 

And  reciting  the  prayer  for  one  in  extre- 
mis  over  the  dying  man,  he  departed. 

"  I  have  obtained  the  letters  from  him," 


said  Mounteagle,  throwing  back  his  hood 
as  he  quitted  the  ciiamber,  and  addressing 
the  jailer.  "And  now  you  need  give 
yourself  no  further  concern  about  him,  he 
will  be  dead  before  morning." 

Jasper  Ipgreve  locked  the  door  upon  the 
prisoner,  and  proceeded  to  the  Weil 
Tower.  When  he  returned,  he  found 
Mounteagle's  words  had  come  to  pass. 
Tresham  was  lying  on  the  floor  quite 
dead — his  collapsed  frame  and  distorted 
countenance  showing  the  agonies  in  which 
he  mast  have  expired. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


THE  TRIAL. 


The  trial  of  the  conspirators,  which 
had  been  delayed  in  order  that  full  evi- 
dence might  be  procured  against  them, 
was,  at  length,  appointed  to  take  place  in 
"Westminster  Hall,  on  Monday  the  27th 
of  January,  1606.  Early  on  the  morning 
of  this  day,  the  eight  surviving  confede- 
rates (Garnet  and  Oldcorne  being  at  this 
time  secreted  at  Hendlip)  were  conveyed 
in  two  large  covered  wherries  from  the 
fortress  to  the  place  of  trial.  In  spite  of 
the  severity  of  the  weather, — it  was  snow- 
ing heavily,  and  the  river  was  covered 
with  sheets  of  ice, — they  were  attended 
by  a  vast  number  of  boats  filled  with  per- 
sons anxious  to  obtain  a  sight  of  them. 
Such  was  the  abhorrence  in  which  the 
actors  in  the  conspiracy  were  held  by  the 
populace,  that,  not  content  with  menaces 
and  execrations,  many  of  these  persons 
hurled  missiles  against  the  wherries,  and 
would  have  proceeded  to  further  violence 
if  they  had  not  been  restrained  by  the 
pikemen.  When  the  prisoners  landed,  a 
tremendous  and  fearful  shout  was  raised 
by  the  mob  stationed  at  the  head  of  the 
stairs,  and  it  required  the  utmost  efforts  of 
the  guard  to  protect  them  from  injury. 
Two  lines  of  soldiers  with  calivers  on 
their  shoulders,  were  drawn  out  from  the 
br.nks  of  the  river  to  the  entrance  of  the 
Hall,  and  between  them  the  conspirators 
marched. 

The  melancholy  procession  was  headed 
by  Sir  W'illiam  Waad,  who  was  followed 
by  an  officer  of  the  guard  and  six  halber- 
diers. Then  came  the  executioner  carry- 
ing the  gleaming  implement  of  death  with 
its  edge  turned  from  the  prisoners.  He 
was  followed  by  Sir  Everard  Dighy, 
whose  noble  figure  and  handsome  counte- 
nance excited  much  sympathy  among  the 


beholders,  and  Ambrose  Rookwood.  Next 
came  the  two  Winters,  both  of  whom  ap- 
peared .greatly  dejected.  Next,  John 
Grant  and  Robert  Bates, — Catesby's  ser- 
vant, who  had  been  captured  at  Holbeach. 
And  lastly,  Keyes  and  Fawkes. 

Bitterly  and  justly  incensed  as  were  the 
multitude  against  the  conspirators,  their 
feelings  underwent  some  change  as  they 
beheld  the  haggard  countenance  and  shat- 
tered frame  of  Guy  Fawkes.  It  was  soon 
understood  that  he  was  the  individual  who 
had  been  found  in  the  vault  near  the  Par- 
liament House,  with  the  touchwood  and 
matches  in  his  belt  ready  to  fire  the  train; 
and  the  greatest  curiosity  was  exhibited 
to  see  him. 

Just  as  the  foremost  of  the  conspirators 
reached  the  entrance  of  the  Hall,  a  terrific 
yell,  resembling  nothing  human,  except 
the  roar  of  a  thousand  tigers  thirsting  for 
blood,  was  uttered  by  the  mob,  and  a  tre- 
mendous but  ineffectual  attempt  was  made 
to  break  through  the  lines  of  the  guard. 
Never  before  had  so  large  an  assemblage 
been  collected  on  the  spot.  The  whole  of 
the  space  extending  on  one  hand  from 
Westminster  Hall  to  the  gates  of  White- 
hall, and  on  the  other  to  the  Abbey,  was 
filled  with  spectators;  and  every  roof, 
window,  and  buttress  was  occupied.  Nor 
was  the  interior  of  the  Hall  less  crowded. 
Not  an  inch  of  room  was  unoccupied;  and 
it  was  afterwards  complained  in  Parlia- 
ment, that  the  members  of  the  house  had 
been  so  pressed  and  incommoded,  that 
they  could  not  hear  what  was  said  at  the 
arraignment. 

Tlie  conspirators  were  first  conveyed  to 
the  court  of  the  Star-Chamber,  where  they 
romain(Hl  till  the  Lords  Commissioners  had 
arrived,  and  taken  their  seals.     The  com. 


196 


GUY    FAWKES. 


missioners  were  the  Earl  of  Nottingham, 
Lord  High  Admiral  of  Eno-land;  the  Earl 
of  SufTolk,  Steward  of  the  Household;  the 
Earl  of  Worcester,  Master  of  the  Horse; 
the  Earl  of  Devonshire,  Master  of  the  Ord- 
nance; the  Earl  of  Northampton,  Warden 
of  the  Cinque-Ports;  the  Earl  of  Salisbury, 
Principal  Secretary  of  State;  Sir  John  Pop- 
ham,  Lord  (/hief  Justice;  SirThomas  Flem- 
ing, Lord  Chief  Baron  of  the  Exchequer; 
aud  Sir  Thomas  Walmisley  and  Sir  Peter 
"W'arhurton,  Knights,  and  both  Justices  of 
the  Common  Pleas. 

Summoned  by  an  usher,  the  conspira- 
tors were  conducted  to  a  platform  covered 
with  black  cloth,  which  had  been  erected 
at  the  lower  end  of  the  hall.  A  murmur 
of  indignation,  vainly  sought  to  be  repress- 
ed by  the  grave  looks  of  the  commission- 
ers, burst  from  the  immense  assemblage, 
as  they  one  by  one  ascended  the  steps  of 
the  platform.  Guy  Fawkes  was  the  last 
to  mount,  and  his  appearance  was  follow- 
ed by  a  deep  groan.  Supporting  himself 
against  the  rail  of  the  scaffold,  he  surveyed 
the  assemblage  with  a  stern  and  undaunted 
look.  As  he  gazed  around,  he  could  not 
help  marvelling  at  the  vast  multitude  be- 
fore him.  The  whole  of  the  peers,  and  all 
the  members  of  the  House  of  Commons 
■were  present,  while  in  a  box  on  the  left, 
though  screened  by  a  lattice,  sat  the  Queen 
and  Prince  Henry;  and  in  another  on  the 
right,  and  protected  in  the  same  way,  the 
king  and  his  courtiers. 

Silence  being  peremptorily  commanded, 
the  indictment  was  read,  wherein  the  prison- 
ers were  charged  with  conspiring  to  blow 
up  the  king  and  the  peers  with  gunpowder, 
and  with  attempting  to  incite  the  papists, 
and  other  persons,  to  open  rebellion;  to 
which  all  the  conspirators,  to  the  no  small 
surprise  of  those  who  heard  them,  and 
■were  aware  that  they  had  subscribed  their 
confessions,  pleaded  not  guilty. 

"  How,  sir!"  cried  the  Lord  Chief  Jus- 
tice, in  a  stern  tone  to  Fawkes,  "  With 
what  face  can  you  pretend  to  deny  the  in- 
dictment, when  you  were  actually  taken 
in  the  cellar  with  the  powder,  and  have 
already  confessed  your  treasonable  inten- 
tions]" 

"  I  do  not  mean  to  deny  what  I  have  con- 
fessed, my  lord,"  replied  Fawkes.  "  But 
this  indictment  contains  many  matters, 
which  I  neither  can  nor  will  countenance 
by  assent  or  silence.  And  I  therefore  deny 
it." 

"  It  is  well,"  replied  the  Lord  Chief 
Justice.     "  Let  the  trial  proceed." 

The  indictment  being  opened  by  Sir 
Edward  Philips,  sergeant-al-law,  he  was 
followed  by  Sir  Edward  Coke,  the  Attor- 
ney-General, who  in  an  eloquent  and  elabo- 
rate speech,  which  produced  an  extraordi-l 


nary  effect  upon  the  assemblage,  expatiated 
upon  the  monstrous  nature  of  the  plot, 
which  he  characterised  as  "the  greatest 
treason  that  ever  was  plotted  in  England, 
and  against  the  greatest  king  that  ever 
reigned  in  England;"  and  after  narrating 
the  origin  and  progress  of  the  conspiracy, 
concluded  by  desiring  that  the  confessions 
of  the  prisoners  should  be  openly  read. 
This  done,  the  jury  were  ordered  by  the 
Lord  Chief  Justice  to  retire,  and  the  int 
junction  being  obeyed,  they  almost  in- 
stantly returned  with  a  verdict  of  guilty. 

A  deep,  dread  silence  then  prevailed 
throughout  the  Hall,  and  every  eye  was 
bent  upon  the  conspirators,  all  of  whom 
maintained  a  composed  demeanour.  They 
were  then  questioned  by  the  Lord  Chief 
Justice  whether  they  had  anything  to  say 
why  judgment  of  death  should  not  be  pro- 
nounced against  them. 

"  All  I  have  to  crave  of  your  lordships," 
said  Thomas  Winter,  "is,  that  being  the 
chief  offender  of  the  two,  I  may  die  for  my 
brother  and  myself." 

"  And  I  ask  only  that  my  brother's  re- 
quest may  not  be  granted,"  said  Robert 
Winter.  "  If  he  is  condemned,  I  do  not 
desire  to  live." 

"I  have  nothing  to  solicit — not  even 
pardon,"  said  Keyes,  carelessly.  "  My 
fortunes  were  always  desperate,  and  are 
better  now  than  they  have  ever  been." 

"  I  desire  mercy,"  said  Rookwood,  "  not 
from  any  fear  of  death,  but  because  so 
shameful  an  ending  will  leave  a  perpetual 
stain  upon  my  name  and  blood.  I  humbly 
submit  myself  to  the  King,  and  pray  him 
to  imitate  our  Supreme  Judge,  who  some- 
times punishes  corporally,  but  not  mor- 
tally." 

"I  have  been  guilty  of  a  conspiracy, 
intended  but  never  effected,"  said  John 
Grant;  "  and  solicit  forgiveness  on  that 
plea." 

"  My  crime  has  been  fidelity  to  my  mas- 
ter," said  Bates.  "  If  the  King  will  let 
me  live,  I  will  serve  him  as  faithfully  as 
I  did  Mr.  Catesby." 

"  I  would  not  atter  a  word,"  said  Fawkes, 
looking  sternly  round,  "if  I  did  not  fear 
my  silence  might  be  misinterpreted.  I 
would  not  accept  a  pardon  if  it  were  offer- 
ed me.  I  regard  the  project  as  a  glorious 
one,  and  only  lament  its  failure." 

"  Silence  the  vile  traitor,"  said  the  Earl 
of  Salisbury,  rising. 

And  as  he  spoke  two  halberdiers  sprang 
up  the  steps  of  the  scaffold,  and  placing 
themselves  on  either  side  of  Fawkes,  pre- 
pared to  gag  him. 

"  I  have  done,"  he  said,  contemptuously 
regarding  them. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say  save  this,"  said 
Sir  Everard  Digby,  bowing  to  the  judges. 


GUY    FAWKES. 


197 


"  If  any  of  your  lordships  will  tell  me  you 
forgive  me,  I  shall  go  more  cheerfully  to 
the  soaffold." 

"  Heaven  forgive  you,  Sir  Everard," 
said  the  Earl  of  Nottingham,  returning  his 
reverence,  "as  we  do." 

"  I  humbly  thank  your  lordship,"  replied 
Digby. 

Sentence  was  then  passed  upon  the  pri- 
soners by  Lord  Chief  Justice  Popham,  and 
they  were  removed  from  the  platform. 


As  they  issued  from  the  Hall,  and  it 
became  known  to  the  assemblage  without 
that  they  were  condemned,  a  shout  of  fierce 
exultation  rent  the  air,  and  they  were  so 
violently  assailed  on  all  sides,  that  they 
had  great  difficulty  in  reaching  the  wher- 
ries. The  guard,  however,  succeeded,  at 
length,  in  accomplishing  their  embarka- 
tion, and  they  were  conveyed  back  in  safety 
to  the  Tower. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 


THE  LAST  MEETING  OF  FAWKES  AND  VIVIANA. 


Up  to  this  time,  Viviana  had  not  been 
allowed  another  interview  with  Guy 
Fawkes.  She  was  twice  interrogated  by 
the  Privy-Council,  but  having  confessed 
all  she  knew  of  the  conspiracy,  excepting 
what  might  implicate  Garnet  and  Oldcorne, 
neither  of  whom  she  was  aware  had  been 
apprehended,  she  was  not  again  subjected 
to  the  torture.  Her  health,  however,  rapidly 
sank  under  her  confinement,  and  she  was 
soon  reduced  to  such  an  extreme  state  of 
debility  that  she  could  not  leave  her  bed. 
The  chirurgeon  having  been  called  in  by 
Dame  Ipgreve  to  attend  her,  reported  her 
condition  to  Sir  William  Waad,  who  di- 
rected that  every  means  should  be  adopted 
for  her  restoration,  and  that  Ruth  Ipgreve 
should  remain  in  constant  attendance  upon 
her. 

Ascertaining  all  particulars  relative  to 
Guy  Fawkes  from  the  jailer's  daughter,  it 
was  a  sad  satisfaction  to  Viviana  to  learn 
that  he  spent  his  whole  time  in  devotion, 
and  appeared  completely  resigned  to  his 
fate.  It  had  been  the  Earl  of  Salisbury's 
purpose  to  bring  Viviana  to  trial  at  the 
same  time  as  tlie  rest  of  the  conspirators, 
but  the  chirurgeon  reporting  that  her  re- 
moval at  this  juncture  would  be  attended 
with  fatal  consequences,  he  was  compelled 
to  defer  it. 

When  the  result  of  the  trial  was  made 
known  to  Viviana  by  Ruth,  though  she  had 
anticipated  the  condemnation  of  Guy 
Fawkes,  she  swooned  away,  and  on  her 
recovery,  observed  to  Ruth,  who  was  great- 
ly alarmed  at  her  looks,  "  I  feel  I  am 
going  fast.  1  should  wish  to  see  my  hus- 
band once  more  before  I  die." 

"  1  fear  it  is  impossible,  madam,"  repli- 
ed Ruth;  "  but  I  will  try  to  accomplish  it." 

"Do  so,"  rejoined  Viviana;  "and  my 
blessing  shall  rest  ever  on  your  head." 

"  Have  you  any  valuable]"  inquired 
Ruth.     "  My  heart  bleeds  to  make  the  de- 


mand at  such  a  moment.  But  it  is  the  only 
way  to  produce  an  effect  on  the  avaricious 
nature  of  my  father." 

"  I  have  nothing  but  this  golden  cruci- 
fix," said  Viviana;  "and  I  meant  to  give 
it  to  you." 

"  It  will  be  better  employed  in  this 
way,"  rejoined  Ruth,  taking  it"  from  her. 

Quitting  the  cell,  she  hurried  to  the 
Well  Tower,  and  found  her  father,  who 
had  just  returned  from  locking  up  the  con- 
spirators in  their  different  dungeons,  sit- 
ting down  to  his  evening  meal. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  the  wenchl" 
he  cried,  staring  at  her.  "  You  look  quite 
distracted.     Is  Viviana  Radcliffe  dead?" 

"No;  but  she  is  dying,"  replied  Ruth. 

"  If  that  is  the  case  I  must  go  to  her 
directly,"  observed  Dame  Ipgreve.  "  She 
*nay  have  some  valuable  about  her  which 
I  must  secure." 

"You  will  be  disappointed,  mother," 
rejoined  Ruth  with  a  look  of  irrepressible 
disgust.  "  She  has  nothing  valuable  left 
but  this  golden  crucifix,  which  she  has 
sent  to  my  father,  on  condition  of  his  al- 
lowing Guy  Fawkes  to  see  her  before  she 
dies." 

"  Give  it  me,  wench,"  cried  Jasper  Ip- 
greve; "  and  let  her  die  in  peace." 

"She  will  710/  die  in  peace  unless  she 
sees  him,"  replied  Ruth.  "  Nor  shall  you 
have  it,  if  you  do  not  comply  with  her 
request." 

"  How!"  exclaimed  her  father,  '•  do  you 
dare " 

"  Think  not  to  terrify  me,  father,"  in- 
terrupted Ruth,  "I  am  resolute  in  this. 
Hear  me,"  she  cried,  seizing  his  arm,  and 
fixing  a  look  upon  him  tliat  seemed  to 
pierce  his  soul,  "  hear  me,"  she  said,  in  a 
lone  so  low  as  to  !)e  inaudible  to  her  mo- 
ther; "  she  shall  see  him,  or  I  will  de- 
nounce you  as  the  murderer  of  Tresham. 
Now  will  you  comply]" 


198 


GUY     F  A  W  K  E  S. 


"  Give  me  the  cross,"  said  Iporreve. 

"  Not  till  you  have  earned  it,"  replied 
his  daughter. 

"  Well,  well,"  lie  rejoined;  "  if  it  must 
be,  it  must.  But  1  may  get  into  troulile 
in  the  matter.  1  must  consult  Master  For- 
selt,  the  gentleman  jailer,  who  has  the 
charge  of  Guy  Favvkes,  before  1  dare  take 
him  to  her  cell." 

"  Consult  whom  you  please,"  rejoined 
Ruth,  impatiently;  "  but  lose  no  time,  or 
you  will  be  too  late." 

Muttering  imprecations  on  his  daughter, 
Ipgreve  left  the  Well  Tower,  and  Ruth 
hurried  back  to  Viviana,  whom  she  found 
anxiously  expecting  her,  and  related  to  her 
what  she  had  done. 

"Oh.  that  I  may  hold  out  till  he  comes!" 
cried  Viviana;  "but  my  strength  is  failing 
fast." 

Ruth  endeavoured  to  comfort  her;  but 
she  was  unequal  to  the  effort,  and  bursting 
into  tears,  knelt  down,  and  wept  upon  the 
pillow  beside  her.  Half  an  hour  had  now 
elapsed.  It  seemed  an  age  to  the  poor 
sufferers,  and  still  the  jailer  came  not,  and 
even  Ruth  had  given  up  all  hope,  when  a 
heavy  tread  was  heard  in  the  passage;  the 
door  opened;  and  Guy  Fawkes  appeared 
attended  by  Ipgreve  and  Forsett, 

"  We  will  not  interrupt  your  parting," 
said  Forsett,  who  seemed  to  have  a  touch 
of  humanity  in  his  con>position.  And  beck- 
oning to  Ruth  to  follow  him,  he  quitted  the 
cell  with  Ipgreve. 

Guy  Fawkes,  meanwhile,  had  approach- 
ed the  couch  and  gazed  vrith  an  expression 
of  intense  anguish  at  Viviana.  She  re- 
turned his  glance  with  a  look  of  the  ut- 
most affection,  and  clasped  his  hand  be- 
tween her  thin  fingers. 

"  I  am  now  standing  on  the  brink  of  eter- 
nity," she  said  in  a  solemn  tone,  "and  I 
entreat  you  earnestly,  as  you  hope  to  insure 
our  meeting  hereafter,  to  employ  the  few 
days  left  you  in  sincere  and  hearty  repent- 
ance. You  have  sinned — sinned  deeply, 
but  not  beyond  the  power  of  redemption. 
Let  me  feel  that  1  have  saved  you,  and  my 
last  moments  will  be  happy.  Oh!  by  the 
love  I  have  borne  you— by  the  pangs  I  have 
endured  for  you— by  the  death  I  am  now 
dying  for  you — let  me  implore  you  not  to 
lose  one  moment,  but  to  supplicate  a  mer- 
ciful Providence  to  pardon  your  offence." 


"  I  will— I  will,"  rejoined  Fawkes,  in 
broken  accents.  "  You  have  opened  my 
eyes  to  my  error,  and  I  sincerely  repent 
it." 

"Saved!  saved!"  cried  Viviana,  raising 
herself  in  the  bed.  Opening  her  arms,  she 
strained  him  to  her  bosom;  and  for  a  few 
moments  they  mingled  their  tears  together. 

"  And  now,"  she  said,  sinking  back- 
wards, "  kneel  by  me — pray  for  forgive- 
ness— pray  audibly,  and  I  will  join  in  your 
prayer." 

Guy  Fawkes  knelt  by  the  bedside,  and 
addressed  the  most  earnest  supplications 
to  Heaven  for  forgiveness.  For  a  while, 
he  heard  Viviana's  gentle  accents  accom- 
pany him.  They  grew  fainter  and  fainter, 
until  at  last  they  totally  ceased.  Filled 
with  a  dreadful  apprehension,  he  sprang  to 
his  feet.  An  angelic  smile  illumined  her 
countenance — her  gaze  was  fixed  on  him 
for  one  moment, — it  then  grew  dim  and 
dimmer,  imtil  it  was  extinguished. 

Guy  Fawkes  uttered  a  cry  of  the  wildest 
despair,  and  fell  to  the  ground.  Alarmed 
by  the  sound,  Forsett  and  Ipgreve,  who 
were  standing  outside,  rushed  into  the  ceil, 
and  instantly  raised  him.  But  he  was  now 
in  a  state  of  distraction,  and  for  the  mo- 
ment seemed  endowed  with  all  his  former 
strength.  vStriving  to  break  from  them,  he 
cried  in  a  tone  of  the  most  piercing  anguish, 
"You  shall  not  tear  me  from  her!  I  will  die 
with  her!  Let  me  go,  I  say,  or  I  will  dash 
out  my  brains  against  these  flinty  walls, 
and   balk  you  of  your  prey." 

But  his  struggles  were  in  vain.  They- 
held  him  fast,  and  calling  for  furtiier  assist- 
ance, conveyed  him  to  his  cell,  where, 
fearing  he  might  do  some  violence  to  him- 
self, they  placed  him  in  irons. 

Ruth  entered  the  cell  as  soon  as  Fawkes 
and  the  others  had  quitted  it,  and  perform- 
ed the  last  sad  offices  for  the  departed. 
Alternately  praying  and  weeping,  she 
watched  by  the  body  during  the  whole  of 
the  night.  On  the  following  day,  the  re- 
mains of  the  unfortunate  Viviana  were  in- 
terred in  the  chapel  of  Saint  Peter  on  the 
Green,  and  the  sole  mourner  was  the  jailer's 
daughter. 

"Peace  be  with  her!"  cried  Ruth,  as 
she  turned  away  from  the  grave.  "  Her 
sorrows  at  last  are  over." 


GUY    FAWKES. 


199 


CHAPTER    XV. 
SAINT  PAUL'S  CHURCHYARD. 


Guy  Fawkes  was  for  some  time  wholly 
inconsolable.  His  stoical  nature  seemed 
completely  subdued,  and  he  wept  like  an 
infant.  By  dejrrees,  however,  the  violence 
of  his  grief  abated,  and  calling  to  mind 
the  last  injunctions  of  her  whose  loss  he 
mourned,  he  addressed  himself  to  prayer, 
and  acknowledging  his  guilt,  besought  her 
intercession  with  Heaven  for  his  forgive- 
ness. 

It  will  not  seem  strange,  when  his  super- 
stitious character  is  taken  into  considera- 
tion, that  he  should  fancy  he  received  an 
immediate  proof  that  his  prayers  were 
heard.  To  his  excited  imagination  it  ap- 
peared that  a  soft  unearthly  strain  of  music 
floated  in  the  air  over  his  head;  that  an 
odour  like  that  of  Paradise  filled  his  cell; 
while  an  invisible  finger  touched  his  brow. 
While  in  this  entranced  state,  he  was 
utterly  insensible  to  his  present  miserable 
situation,  and  he  seemed  to  have  a  foretaste 
of  celestial  happiness.  He  did  not,  how- 
ever, desist  from  prayer,  but  continued  his 
supplications  throughout  the  day. 

On  that  night,  he  was  visited  by  the 
lieutenant,  who  announced  to  him  that  the 
execution  of  four  of  the  conspirators  was 
fixed  for  Thursday  (it  was  then  Tuesday), 
while  his  own  and  that  of  the  three  others 
would  not  take  place  till  the  following 
day. 

"As  you  are  the  greatest  traitor  of  all, 
your  execution  will  be  reserved  to  the  last," 
pursued  Waad.  "  No  part  of  the  sentence 
will  be  omitted.  You  will  be  dragged  to 
Old  Palace  Yard,  over  against  the  scene 
of  your  intended  bloody  and  damnable  ac- 
tion, at  a  horse's  tail,  and  will  be  there 
turned  off  the  gallows,  and  hanged, — but 
not  till  you  are  dead.  You  will  then  be 
embowelled;  your  vile  heart,  which  con- 
ceived this  atrocious  design,  will  be  torn 
beating  from  your  breast;  and  your  quarters 
will  be  placed  on  the  palace  gates  as  an 
abhorrent  spectacle  in  the  eyes  of  men, 
and  a  terrible  proof  of  the  King's  just  ven- 
geance." 

Guy  Fawkes  heard  the  recapitulation  of 
his  dreadful  sentence  unmoved. 

"  The  sole  mercy  I  would  have  craved 
of  his  Majesty  would  have  been  permission 
to  die  first!"  he  said.  "  But  Heaven's  will 
be  done!     I  deserve  my  doom." 

"  What!    is    your  stubborn    nature  at 
length  subdued?"  cried  the  lieutenant  in 
surprise.      "  Do  you  repent  of   your  of- 
fence?" 
"Deeply  and  heartily,"  returned  Fawkes. 

18 


"  Make  the  sole  amends  in  your  power 
for  it,  then,  and  disclose  the  names  of  all 
who  have  been  connected  with  the  atro- 
cious design?"  rejoined  Waad. 

"  I  confess  myself  guilty,"  replied 
Fawkes,  humbly.  "  But  I  accuse  no 
others." 

"  Then  you  die  impenitent,"  rejoined 
the  lieutenant,  "  and  cannot  hope  for  mercy 
hereafter." 

Guy  Fawkes  made  no  answer,  but  bow- 
ed his  head  upon  his  breast,  and  the  lieu- 
tenant, darting  a  malignant  look  at  him, 
quitted  the  cell. 

On  the  following  day,  the  whole  of  the 
conspirators  were  taken  to  Saint  John's 
chapel,  in  the  White  Tower,  where  a  dis- 
course was  pronounced  to  them  by  Doctor 
Overall,  Dean  of  Saint  Paul's,  who  en- 
larged upon  the  enormity  of  their  offence, 
and  exhorted  them  to  repentance.  The 
discourse  over,  they  were  about  to  be  re- 
moved, when  two  ladies  clad  in  mourning 
habits,  entered  the  chapel.  These  were 
Lady  Digby  and  Mrs.  Rookwood,  and  they 
immediately  flew  to  their  husbands.  The 
rest  of  the  conspirators  walked  away,  and 
averted  their  gaze  from  the  painful  scene. 
After  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  speak.  Lady 
Digby  swooned  away,  and  was  committed 
by  her  husband,  while  in  a  state  of  insen- 
sibility, to  the  care  of  an  attendant.  Mrs. 
Rookwood,  however,  who  was  a  woman  of 
high  spirit,  and  great  personal  attractions, 
though  the  latter  were  now  wasted  by  af- 
fliction, maintained  her  composure,  and 
encouraging  her  husband  to  bear  up  man- 
fully against  his  situation,  tenderly  em- 
braced him,  and  withdrew.  The  conspira- 
tors were  then  taken  back  to  their  cells. 

At  an  early  hour  on  the  following  morn- 
ing the  four  miserable  persons  intended  for 
death,  namely,  Sir  Everard  Digby,  the 
elder  Winter,  John  Grant,  and  Bates  were 
conducted  to  the  Beauchamp  Tower.  Bates 
would  have  stood  aloof  from  his  superiors; 
but  Sir  Everard  Digby  took  him  kindly  by 
the  hand,  and  drew  him  towards  them. 

"  No  distinctions  must  be  observed 
now,"  he  said.  "We  ought  to  beg  pardon 
of  thee,  my  poor  fellow,  for  bringing  thee 
into  this  strait." 

"  Think  not  of  me,  worshipful  sir,"  re- 
plied Bates.  "  I  loved  Mr.  Catesby  so 
well,  that  I  would  have  laid  down  my  life 
for  him  at  any  time;  and  I  now  die  cheer- 
fully in  his  cause." 

"  Mr.  Lieutenant,"  said  Robert  Winter 
to  Sir  William  Waad,  who  stood  near  them 


200 


GUY     FAWKES. 


with  Forsett  and  Tpofreve,  "I  pray  you 
coirimend  me  to  my  brother.  Tell  him  I 
die  in  entire  love  of  him,  and  if  it  is  possi- 
ble for  the  departed  to  watch  over  the  liv- 
ing, I  will  be  with  him  at  his  last  hour." 

At  this  moment,  a  trampling-  of  horses 
was  heard  on  the  green,  and  the  lieutenant 
proceeding  to  the  grated  window,  saw  four 
mounted  troopers,  each  having  a  sledge 
and  hurdle  attached  by  ropes  to  his  steed, 
drawn  up  before  the  door.  While  he  was 
gazing  at  them,  an  officer  entered  the  room, 
and  inforined  him  that  all  was  in  readiness. 
Sir  William  Waad  then  motioned  the  pri- 
soners to  follow  liim,  and  they  descended 
the  spiral  stair-case. 

The  green  was  thronged  with  horse  and 
foot  soldiers,  and  as  the  conspirators  issued 
from  the  arched  door  of  the  fortification, 
the  bell  of  Saint  Peter's  chapel  began  to 
toll.  Sir  Everard  Digby  was  first  bound 
to  a  hurdle,  with  his  face  towards  the 
horse,  and  the  others  were  quickly  secured 
in  the  same  manner.  The  melancholy 
cavalcade  was  then  put  in  motion.  A  troop 
of  horse-soldiers  in  tlieir  full  accoutre- 
ments, and  with  calivers  upon  their  shoul- 
ders, rode  first,  then  came  a  band  of  hal- 
berdiers on  foot;  then  the  masked  execu- 
tioner mounted  on  a  led  horse;  then  the 
four  prisoners  on  tlie  hurdles,  one  after  the 
other;  then  the  lieutenant  on  horseback; 
while  another  band  of  horse-soldiers,  equip- 
ped like  the  first,  brouglit  up  the  rear. 
They  were  met  by  theRecorder  of  London, 
Sir  Henry  Montague,  and  the  sheriffs,  at 
the  gate  of  the  Middle  Tower,  to  the  latter 
of  whom  the  lieutenant,  according  to  cus- 
tom, delivered  up  the  bodies  of  the  prison- 
ers. After  a  short  delay,  the  train  again 
set  forward,  and  emerging  from  the  Bul- 
wark Gate,  proceeded  through  an  enormous 
concourse  of  spectators  towards  Tower 
Street. 

Aware  that  a  vast  crowd  would  be  as- 
sembled in  the  city,  and  apprehensive  of 
some  popular  tumult,  the  Lord  Mayor  had 
issued  precepts  to  the  aldermen  of  every 
ward,   commanding  them    "to  cause  one 
able  and  sufficient  person,  with  a  halbert 
in  his  hand,  to  stand  at  the  door  of  every 
dwelling-house  in  the  open  street  in  the 
■way  that  the  traitors  were  to  be  drawn  to- 
wards the  place  of  execution,  there  to  re- 
main from  seven  in  the  morning  until  the 
return  of  the  sheriffs."     But  these  were 
not  the  whole  of  the  arrangements  made  to 
preserve   order.     The    cavalcade,   it   was 
fixed,  was  to  proceed  along  Tower  Street, 
Gracechurch     Street,      Lombard     Street, 
Cheapside,  and  so  on  to  the  west  end  of 
Saint  Paul's  cathedral,  where  the  scaffold 
was  erected.     Along  the  whole  road,  on 
either  side,  a  line  of  halberdiers  was  drawn 
up,  while  barriers  were  erected  against  the 


cross  streets.  Nor  were  these  precautions 
needless.  Such  a  vast  concourse  was  col- 
lected, that  nothing  but  the  presence  of  a 
strong  armed  force  could  have  prevented 
confusion  and  disorder.  The  roofs  of  all 
the  houses,  the  towers  of  the  churches,  the 
steps  of  the  crosses,  were  covered  with 
spectators  who  groaned  and  hooted  as  the 
conspirators  passed  by. 

The  scaffold,  as  has  just  been  stated, 
was  erected  in  front  of  the  great  western 
entrance  of  the  cathedral.  The  mighty  . 
valves  of  the  sacred  structure  were  thrown 
open,  and  disclosed  its  columned  aisles 
crowded  with  spectators,  as  was  its  root' 
and  central  tower.  The  great  bell,  which 
had  begun  to  toll  when  the  melancholy 
procession  came  in  sight,  continued  to 
pour  forth  its  lugubrious  sounds  during  the 
whole  of  the  ceremonial.  The  rolling  of 
muffled  drums  was  likewise  heard  above 
the  tumultuous  murmurs  of  the  impatient 
multitude.  The  whole  area  from  the  cathe- 
dral to  Ludgate  Hill  was  filled  with  spec- 
tators, but  an  open  space  was  kept  clear  in 
front  of  the  scaffold,  in  which  the  prisoners 
were  one  by  one  unbound  from  the  hur- 
dles. 

During  this  awful  pause,  they  had  suffi- 
cient time  to  note  the  whole  of  the  dreadful 
preparations.  At  a  little  distance  from 
them  was  a  large  fire,  on  which  boiled  a 
caldron  of  pitch,  destined  to  receive  their 
dismembered  limbs.  A  tall  gallows,  ap- 
proached by  a  double  ladder,  sprung  from 
the  scaffold,  on  which  the  hangman  was 
already  mounted  with  the  rope  in  his  hand. 
At  the  foot  of  the  ladder  was  tlie  quarter- 
ing-block,  near  which  stood  the  masked 
executioner  with  a  chopper  in  his  hand, 
and  two  large  sharp  knives  in  his  girdle. 
His  arms  were  bared  to  the  shoulder;  and 
a  leathern  apron,  soiled  by  gory  stains,  and 
tied  roimd  his  waist,  completed  his  butcher- 
ly appearance.  Straw  was  scattered  upon 
the  scaffold  near  the  block. 

Sir  Everard  Digby  was  the  first  to  re- 
ceive the  fatal  summons.  He  mounted 
with  a  firm  footstep,  and  his  youth,  his 
noble  aspect,  and  undaunted  demeanour 
awakened,  as  before,  the  sympathy  of  the 
beholders.  Looking  round,  he  thus  ad- 
dressed the  assemblage: — 

"Good  people,  I  am  here  about  to  die, 
ye  well  know  for  what  cause.  Through- 
out the  matter,  1  have  acted  according  to 
the  dictates  of  my  conscience.  They 
have  led  me  to  undertake  this  enterprise, 
which  in  respect  of  my  religion,  I  hold  to 
be  no  offence,  but  in  respect  of  the  law  a 
heinous  offence,  and  I  therefore  ask  for- 
giveness of  God,  of  the  king,  and  of  the 
whole  realm." 

Crossing  himself  devoutly,  he  then 
knelt  down,  and  recited   his   prayers  in 


GUY    FAWKES. 


201 


Latin,  after  which  he  arose,  and  again 
looking  round,  said  in  an  earnest  voice,    - 

"I  desire  the  prayers  of  all  good  Ca- 
tholics, and  of  none  other." 

"  Then  none  will  pray  for  you,"  replied 
several  voices  from  the  croT\-d. 

Heedless  of  the  retort.  Sir  Everard  sur- 
rendered himself  to  the  executioner's  as- 
sistant, who  divested  him  of  his  cloak  and 
doublet,  and  unfastened  his  collar.  In 
this  state,  he  mounted  the  ladder,  and  the 
hangman  fulfilled  his  office. 

Robert  Winter  was  next  summoned,  and 
ascended  the  scaffold  with  great  firmness. 
Everything  proclaimed  the  terrible  tra- 
gedy that  had  just  been  enacted.  The 
straw  was  sprinkled  with  blood,  so  was 
the  block,  so  were  the  long  knives  of  the 
executioner,  whose  hands  and  arms  were 
dyed  with  the  same  crimson  stain;  while 
in  one  corner  of  the  scaffold  stood  a  basket, 
containing  the  dismembered  limbs  of  the 
late  unfortunate  sufferer.  But  these  dread- 
ful sights  produced  no  effect  on  Robert 
Winter.  Declining  to  address  the  assem- 
blage, he  at  once  surrendered  himself  to 
the  assistant,  and  shared  the  fate  of  his 
friend. 


Grant  was  the  next  to  follow.  Undis- 
mayed as  his  predecessor,  he  looked  round 
with  a  cheerful  countenance,  and  said, — 

"I  am  about  to  suffer  the  death  of  a 
traitor,  and  am  content  to  die  so.  But  I 
am  satisfied  that  our  project  was  so  far 
from  being  sinful,  that  I  rely  entirely  on 
my  merits  in  bearing  a  part  in  it,  as  an 
abundant  satisfaction  and  expiation  for  all 
the  sins  1  have  at  other  times  of  my  lile 
committed." 

This  speech  W£.s  received  by  a  terrific 
yell  from  the  multitude.  Wholly  un- 
moved, however,  Grant  uttered  a  few 
prayers,  and  then  crossing  himself,  mounted 
the  ladder  and  was  quickly  despatched. 
The  bloody  business  was  completed  by 
the  slaughter  of  Bates,  who  died  as  reso- 
lutely as  the  others. 

These  executions,  being  conducted  with 
the  utmost  deliberation,  occupied  nearly 
an  hour.  The  crowd  then  separated  to 
talk  over  the  sight  they  had  witnessed, 
and  to  keep  holiday  during  the  remainder 
of  the  day;  rejoicing  that  an  equally-ex- 
citing spectacle  was  in  store  for  them  on 
the  morrow. 


CHAPTER    XVI, 


OLD  PALACE  YARD. 


Guy  Fawkes's  tranquillity  of  mind  did 
not  desert  him  to  the  last.  On  the  con- 
trary, as  his  term  of  life  drew  near  its 
close,  he  became  more  cheerful  and  re- 
signed; his  sole  anxiety  being  that  all 
should  be  speedily  terminated.  When 
Ipgreve  took  leave  of  him  for  the  night, 
he  threw  himself  on  his  couch  and  soon 
fell  into  a  gentle  slumber.  His  dreams 
were  soothing,  and  he  fancied  that  Vivi- 
ana  appeared  to  him  clad  in  robes  of  snowy 
■whiteness,  and  regarding  him  with  a 
smiling  countenance,  promised  that  the 
gates  of  eternal  happiness  would  be  open- 
ed to  him  on  the  morrow. 

Awaking  about  four  o'clock,  he  passed 
the  interval  between  that  lime  and  his 
summons  by  the  jailer  in  earnest  prayer. 
At  six  o'clock  Ipgreve  made  his  appear- 
ance. He  was  accompanied  by  his  daugh- 
ter, who  had  prevailed  on  him  to  allow 
her  to  take  leave  of  the  prisoner.  She 
acquainted  Fawkes  with  all  particulars  of 
the  interment  of  Viviana,  to  which  he  lis- 
tened with  tearful  interest. 

"  Would  my  remains  might  be  laid  be- 
side her!"  he  said.     "  But  fate  forbids  it!" 


"Truly,  does  it,"  observed  Ipgreve, 
gruffly;  "  unless  you  would  have  her  body 
removed  to  the  spikes  of  Whitehall 
gates." 

Disregarding  this  brutal  speech,  which 
called  a  blush  of  shame  to  the  cheeks  of 
Ruth,  Fawkes  affectionately  pressed  her 
hand,  and  said, 

"  Do  not  forget  me  in  your  prayers,  and 
sometimes  visit  the  grave  of  Viviana." 

"  Doubt  it  not,"  she  replied,  in  accents 
half  suffocated  by  grief. 

Fawkes  then  bade  her  farewell,  and  fol- 
lowed the  jailer  through  various  intricate 
passages  which  brought  them  to  a  door 
opening  upon  one  of  the  lower  chambers  of 
the  Beauchamp  Tower.  Unlocking  it, 
Ipgreve  led  the  way  up  the  circular  stair- 
case, and  ushered  his  companion  into  the 
large  chamber  where  Rookwood,  Keyes, 
and  Thomas  Winter  were  already  assem- 
bled. 

The  morning  was  clear,  but  frosty,  and 
i  bitterly  cold;  and  when  the  lieutenant  ap- 
peared, Rookwood  besought  him  to  allow 
'  them  a  fire  as  their  last  earthly  indulgence. 
j  The  request  was  peremptorily  refused.     A 


202 


GUY     FAWKES. 


cup  of  hot  spiced  wine  was,  however, 
offered  them,  and  accepted  by  all  except 
Fawkes. 

At  the  same  hour  as  on  the  previous 
day,  the  hurdles  were  brought  to  the  en- 
trance of  the  fortification,  and  the  prison- 
ers hound  to  them.  The  recorder  and 
sheriffs  met  them  at  the  Middle  Tower,  as 
they  had  done  the  other  conspirators,  and 
the  cavalcade  set  forth.  The  crowd  was 
even  crreater  than  on  the  former  occasion; 
and  it  required  the  utmost  exertion  on  the 
part  of  the  truard  to  maintain  order.  Some 
little  delay  occurred  at  Ludgate;  and  dur- 
ing this  brief  halt,  liookwood  heard  a  cry, 
and  looking  up,  perceived  his  wife  at  the 
upper  window  ol^  one  of  the  habitations, 
waving  her  handkerchief  to  him,  and 
cheering  him  by  her  gestures.  He  endea- 
voured to  answer  her  by  signs;  but  his 
hands  were  fast  bound,  and  the  next  mo- 
ment, the  cavalcade  moved  on. 

At  Temple  Bar  another  halt  occurred; 
and  as  the  train  moved  slowly  forward,  an 
immense  crowd  like  a  swollen  stream 
swept  after  it.  The  two  gates  at  White- 
hall, then  barring  the  road  to  Westminster, 
were  opened  as  the  train  approached,  and 
a  certain  portion  of  the  concourse  allowed 
to  pass  through.  The  scaffold,  which  had 
been  removed  from  iSaint  Paul's,  was 
erected  in  the  middle  of  Old  Palace  Yard, 
in  front  of  the  House  of  Lords.  Around 
it  were  circled  a  band  of  halberdiers,  out- 
side whom  stood  a  dense  throng.  The 
buttresses  and  pinnacles  of  the  Abbey 
were  covered  with  spectators;  so  was  the 
roof  of  the  Parliament  House;  and  the 
gallery  over  the  entrance. 

The  bell  of  the  Abbey  began  to  toll  as 
the  train  passed  through  the  gates  of 
Whitehall,  and  its  deep  booming  filled  the 
air.  Just  as  the  conspirators  were  released 
from  the  hurdles,  Topcliffe,  who  had  evi- 
dently from  his  disordered  attire  arrived 
from  a  long  journey,  rode  up,  and  dis- 
mounted. 

"  I  am  just  in  time,"  he  cried,  with  an 
exulting  glance  at  the  conspirators;  "  this 
is  not  the  last  execution  I  shall  witness. 
Fathers  Garnet  and  Oldcorne  are  prison- 
ers, and  on  their  way  to  London.  I  was 
a  long  time  in  unearthing  the  priestly 
foxes,  but  I  succeeded  at  last." 

At  tliis  moment,  an  officer  approached, 
and  summoned  Thomas  Winter  to  mount 
the  scaffold.  He  obeyed,  and  exhibited 
no  symptom  of  quailing  except  that  his 
complexion  suddenly  turned  to  a  livid 
colour.  Being  told  of  this  by  the  lieuten- 
ant, he  tried  to  account  for  it  by  saying 
that  he  thought  he  saw  his  brother  precede 
him  up  the  steps.  He  made  a  brief  ad- 
dress, protesting  he  died  a  true  Catholic, 


and  in  that  faith,  notwithstanding  his  of- 
fences, hoped  to  be  saved. 

Rookwood  followed  him,  and  indulged 
in  a  somewhat  longer  oration.  "  I  confess 
my  offence  to  God,"  he  said,  "  in  seeking 
to  shed  blood,  aiid  implore  his  mercy.  I 
likewise  confess  my  offence  to  the  King, 
of  whose  majesty  I  humbly  ask  forgive- 
ness; and  I  further  confess  my  offence  to 
the  whole  state,  of  whom  in  general  I  en- 
treat pardon.  May  the  Almighty  bless 
the  King,  the  Queen,  and  all  their  royal 
progeny,  and  grant  them  a  long  and  happy 
reign!  May  he  turn  their  hearts  to  the 
Catholic  faith,  so  that  heresy  may  be 
wholly  extirpated  from  the  kingdom!" 

The  first  part  of  this  speech  was  well 
received  by  the  assemblage,  but  the  latter 
was  drowned  in  groans  and  hootings,  amid 
which  Rookwood  was  launched  into  eter- 
nity. 

Keyes  came  next,  and  eyeing  the  as- 
semblage disdainfully,  went  up  the  lad- 
der, and  threw  liimself  off  with  such  force 
that  he  broke  the  rope,  and  was  instantly 
despatched  by  the  executioner  and  his  as- 
sistants. 

Guy  Fawkes  now  alone  remained,  and 
he  slowly  mounted  the  scaffold.  His  foot 
slipped  on  the  blood-stained  boards,  and 
he  would  have  fallen,  if  Topcliffe,  who 
stood  near  him,  had  not  caught  his  hand. 
A  deep  silence  prevailed  as  he  looked 
around,  and  uttered  the  following  words 
in  a  clear  and  distinct  voice: — 

"  I  ask  forgiveness  of  the  King  and  the 
state  for  my  criminal  intention,  and  trust 
that  my  death  will  wash  out  my  offence." 

He  then  crossed  himself  and  knelt  down 
to  pray,  after  which  his  cloak  and  doublet 
were  removed  by  the  executioner's  assist- 
ant and  placed  with  those  of  the  other  con- 
spirators. He  made  an  effort  to  mount  the 
ladder,  but  his  stiffened  limbs  refused  their 
office. 

"Your  courage  fails  you,"  sneered  Top- 
cliffe, laying  his  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 

"  My  strength  does,"  replied  Fawkes, 
sternly  regarding  him.  "  Help  me  up  the 
ladder,  and  you  shall  see  whether  1  am 
afraid  to  die." 

Seeing  how  matters  stood,  the  execu- 
tioner who  stood  by,  leaning  upon  his 
chopper,  tendered  him  his  blood-stained 
hand.  But  Fawkes  rejected  it  with  dis- 
gust, and  exerting  all  his  strength,  forced 
himself  up  the  ladder. 

As  the  hangman  adjusted  the  rope  he 
observed  a  singular  smile  illumine  the 
features  of  his  victim. 

"  You  seem  happy,"  he  said. 

"lam  so,"  replied  Fawkes,  earnestly, 
— "  I  see  the  form  of  her  I  loved  beckon- 
ing me  to  unfading  happiness." 


GUY    FAWKES. 


203 


With  this,  he  stretched   out  his  arms 
and  sprang  from  the  ladder.     Before  his 


frame  was  exposed  to  the  executioner's 
knife,  life  was  totally  extinct. 


CHAPTER  XVII, 


THE  LAST  EXECUTION. 


Little  more  remains  to  be  told,  and 
that  little  is  of  an  equally  painful  nature 
with  the  tragical  events  just  related. 

Fathers  Garnet  and  Oldcorne  together, 
with  Mr.  Abingdon  and  their  servants,  ar- 
rived in  London  on  the  12th  of  February, 
about  a  fortnight  after  the  execution  of  the 
other  conspirators.  They  were  first  taken 
to  the  Gatehouse  at  Westminster,  and 
were  examined  on  the  following  day  by 
the  Earl  of  Salisbury  and  the  Privy  Coun- 
cil at  the  Star-Chamber.  Nothing  could 
be  elicited  from  them,  and  Garnet  answer- 
ed the  earl's  interrogatories  with  infinite 
subtlety  and  address.  The  examination 
over,  they  were  ordered  to  be  removed  to 
the  Tower. 

Topcliffe  accompanied  them  to  the  stairs. 
As  they  proceeded  thither,  he  called  Gar- 
net's attention  to  a  ghastly  object  stuck  on 
a  spike  over  the  palace  gates. 

"  Do  you  recognise  those  features'?"  he 
asked. 

"  No;"  replied  Garnet,  shudderingly 
averting  his  gaze. 

"  I  am  surprised  to  hear  it,"  rejoined 
Topcliffe,  "for  they  were  once  well  known 
to  you.  It  is  the  head  of  Guy  Fawkes. 
Of  all  the  conspirators,"  he  added,  with 
a  bitter  laugh,  "  he  was  the  only  one  who 
died  truly  penitent.  It  is  reported  that 
this  happy  change  was  wrought  in  him  by 
Viviana  Radcliffe." 

"  Heaven  have  mercy  upon  his  soul!" 
muttered  Garnet. 

"  I  will  tell  you  a  strange  tale  about 
Catesby,"  pursued  Topcliffe.  "  He  was 
buried  in  the  garden  at  Holbeach  with 
Percy,  but  an  order  was  sent  down  by  the 
Earl  of  Salisbury  to  have  their  bodies  dis- 
interred and  quartered.  When  Catesby's 
head  was  severed  from  the  trunk,  to  be  set 
on  the  gates  of  Warwick,  fresh  blood 
spouted  forth,  as  if  life  were  in  the  veins." 

"  You  do  not  expect  me  to  believe  this 
idle  story?"  said  Garnet  incredulously. 

"  Believe  it  or  not,  as  you  please,"  re- 
turned Topcliffe,  angrily. 

On  arriving  at  the  fortress.  Garnet  was 
lodged  in  the  large  chamber  of  the  Beau- 
champ  Tower,  and  allowed  the  attendance 
of  his  servant,  Nicholas  Owen,  vviiile  Old- 
corne was  equally  well  accommodated  in 


the  Constable  Tower.  This  leniency  was 
the  result  of  the  policy  of  the  Earl  of 
Salisbury,  who  hoped  to  obtain  disclosures 
from  the  two  Jesuit  priests  which  would 
enable  him  to  strike  the  decisive  blow  he 
meditated  against  tlie  Papists.  But  he 
was  unsuccessful.  They  refused  to  make 
any  confessions  which  would  criminate 
themselves,  or  implicate  others;  and  as 
none  of  the  conspirators,  not  even  Tres- 
ham,  had  admitted  their  connection  with 
the  plot,  it  was  difficult  to  find  proof  against 
them.  Garnet  underwent  daily  examina- 
tions from  the  Earl  of  Salisbury  and  the 
commissioners,  but  he  baffled  all  their  in- 
quiries. 

"  If  we  cannot  wring  the  truth  from  you 
by  fair  means,  Mr.  Garnet,"  said  Salis- 
bury, "  we  must  have  recourse  to  torture." 

^^Minare  ista  pueris,^^  replied  Garnet,- 
contemptuously. 

"  Leave  these  two  priests  to  me,  my 
lord,"  observed  Sir  William  Waad,  who 
was  present  at  the  examination,  which 
took  place  at  the  council-chamber  in^  his 
lodgings,  "  leave  them  to  me,"  he  said  in 
a  low  voice  to  the  earl,  "and  I  will  en- 
gage to  procure  a  full  confession  from  their 
own  lips,  without  resorting  to  torture." 

"You  will  renderthe  state  an  important 
service  by  doing  so,"  replied  Salisbury,  in 
the  same  tone.  "I  place  the  matter  en- 
tirely in  your  hands." 

The  lieutenant  set  to  work  without  loss 
of  time.  By  his  directions.  Garnet  and 
Oldcorne  were  removed  from  their  present 
places  of  confinement  to  two  subterranean 
cells  immediately  adjoining  each  other, 
but  between  which  a  secret  recess,  con- 
trived in  the  tliickness  of  the  wall,  and 
built  for  the  pur])ose  it  was  subsequently 
put  to,  existed.  Two  days  after  they  had 
been  so  immured,  Ipgreve,  who  had  re- 
ceived his  instructions,  loitered  for  a  mo- 
ment in  Oldcorne's  cell,  and  with  aflected 
hesitation  informed  him  that  for  a  trilling 
reward  he  would  enable  iiim  to  liold  un- 
reserved communication  with  his  fellow- 
prisoner. 

Oldcorne  eagerly  caught  at  the  bait,  but 
required  to  be  satisfied  tli;it  the  jailer  could 
make  good  his  words.  Ipgreve  immedi- 
ately proceeded  to  the  side  of  the  cell,  and 


204 


GUY    FAWKES. 


holding  a  lamp  to  the  wall,  showed  him  a 
s.Tiall  iron  knob. 

"Touch  this  spring,"  he  said,  "and  a 
stone  will  fall  from  its  place,  and  enable 
you  to  converse  with  P'ather  Garnet,  who 
is  in  the  next  cell.  But  you  must  take 
care  to  replace  the  stone  when  any  one  ap- 
proaches." 

Promising  to  observe  the  utmost  caution, 
and  totally  unsuspicious  of  the  deceit  prac- 
tised upon  him,  Oldcorne  gave  Ipgreve 
the  reward,  and  as  soon  as  he  was  gone, 
touched  the  spring,  and  found  it  act  pre- 
cisely as  the  jailer  had  stated. 

Garnet  was  greatly  surprised  to  hear  the 
other's  voice,  and  on  learning  how  the 
communication  was  managed  was  at  first 
suspicious  of  some  stratagem,  but  by  de- 
grees his  fears  wore  off,  and  he  became 
unreserved  in  his  discourse  with  his  com- 
panion, discussing  the  fate  of  the  conspira- 
tors, I  heir  own  share  in  the  plot,  the  pro- 
bability of  their  acquittal,  and  the  best 
means  of  baffling  their  examiners.  All 
these  interlocutions  were  overheard  and 
taken  down  by  the  lieutenant  and  two 
other  witnesses,  Forseit,  and  Lockerson, 
private  secretary  to  the  Earl  of  Salisbury, 
who  were  concealed  in  the  recess.  Hav- 
ing obtained  all  the  information  he  desired. 
Sir  William  Waad  laid  his  notes  before 
the  Council,  and  their  own  confessions 
being  read  to  the  priests,  they  were  both 
greatly  confused,  though  neither  would 
admit  their  authenticity. 

Meanwhile,  their  two  servants,  Owen 
and  Chambers,  had  been  repeatedly  exa- 
mined, and  refusing  to  confess,  were  at  last 
suspended  from  a  beam  by  the  thumbs. 
But  this  producing  no  result,  they  were 
told  that  on  the  following  day  they  would 
be  placed  on  the  rack.  Chambers  then 
offered  to  make  a  full  confession,  but  Owen, 
continuing  obstinate,  was  conveyed  back 
to  his  cell.  Ipgreve  brought  him  his  food 
as  usual  in  the  evening,  and  on  this  occa- 
sion, it  consisted  of  broth,  and  a  small 
allowance  of  meat.  It  was  the  custom  of 
the  jailer  to  bring  with  him  a  small  blunt- 
pointed  knife,  with  which  he  allowed 
the  prisoner  to  cut  his  victuals.  Having 
got  possession  of  the  knife,  Owen  tasted 
the  broth,  and  complaining  that  it  was 
quite  cold,  he  implored  the  jailer  to  get  it 
warmed  for  him  as  he  felt  extremely  un- 
well. Somewhat  moved  by  his  entreaties, 
and  more  by  his  appearance,  Ipgreve  com- 
plied. On  his  return,  he  found  the  unfor- 
tunate man  lying  in  one  corner  of  the  cell, 
partially  covered  by  a  heap  of  straw  which 
ordinarily  formed  his  bed. 

"  Here  is  your  broth,"  he  said.  "  Take 
it  while  it  is  hot.  I  shall  give  myself  no 
further  trouble  about  you." 

"  It  will  not  be  needed,"  gasped  Owen. 


Alarmed  by  the  sound  of  his  voice,  Ip- 
greve held  the  light  towards  him,  and  per- 
ceived that  his  face  was  pale  as  death.  At 
the  same  time,  he  remarked  that  the  floor 
was  covered  with  blood.  Instantly  divin- 
ing the  truth,  the  jailer  rushed  towards  the 
wretched  man,  and  dragging  away  the 
blood-stained  straw,  found  be  had  inflicted 
a  frightful  wound  upon  himself  with  the 
knife  which  he  still  held  in  his  grasp. 

"  Fool  that  I  was,  to  trust  you  with  the 
weapon!"  cried  Ipgreve.  "  But  who  would 
have  thought  it  could  inflict  a  mortal 
wound?" 

"  Any  weapon  will  serve  him  who  is  re- 
solved to  die,"  rejoined  Owen.  "  You  can- 
not put  me  on  the  rack  now."  And  with  a 
ghastly  expression  of  triumph,  he  expired. 

Soon  after  this,  Oldcorne  and  Abingdon 
were  sent  down  to  Worcester,  where  the 
former  was  tried  and  executed.  Stephen 
Littleton  suffered  death  at  the  same  time. 

On  Friday  the  23d  of  March,  full  proofs 
being  obtained  against  him.  Garnet  was 
arraigned  of  high  treason  at  Guildhall. 
The  trial,  which  excited  extraordinary  in- 
terest, was  attended  by  the  king,  by  the 
most  distinguished  personages,  male  and 
female,  of  his  court,  and  by  all  the  foreign 
ambassadors.  Garnet  conducted  himself 
throughout  his  arraignment,  which  lasted 
for  thirteen  hours,  with  the  same  courage 
and  address  which  he  had  displayed  on  his 
examinations  before  the  commissioners. 
But  his  subtlety  availed  him  little.  He  was 
found  guilty  and  condemned. 

The  execution  of  the  sentence  was  for 
some  time  deferred,  it  being  hoped  that  a 
complete  admission  of  his  guilt  would  be 
obtained  from  him,  together  with  disclo- 
sures relative  to  the  designs  of  the  Jesuit 
party.  With  this  view,  the  examinations 
were  still  continued,  but  the  rigour  with 
which  he  had  been  latterly  treated  was  re- 
laxed. A  few  days  before  bis  execution, 
he  was  visited  by  several  eminent  Protest- 
ant divines, — Doctor  Montague,  Dean  of 
the  Chapel  Royal;  Doctor  Neile,  Dean  of 
Westminster;  and  Doctor  Overall,  Dean  of 
Saint  Paul's;  with  whom  he  had  a  long 
disputation  on  points  of  faith  and  other 
spiritual  matters. 

At  the  close  of  this  discussion,  Doctor 
Overall  remarked,  "  I  suppose  you  expect, 
Mr.  Garnet,  that  after  your  death,  the 
Church  of  Rome  will  declare  you  a 
martyr"?" 

"  I  a  martyr!"  exclaimed  Garnet,  sorrow- 
fully. "  Oh  what  a  martyr  I  should  be!  If 
indeed,  I  were  really  about  to  suffer  death 
for  the  Catholic  religion,  and  had  never 
known  of  this  project,  except  by  means  of 
sacramental  confession,  1  might  perhaps 
be  accounted  worthy  the  honour  of  martyr- 
dom, and  might  deservedly  be  glorified  in 


GUY    FAWKES. 


205 


the  opinion  of  our  clinrch.  As  it  is,  1  ac- 
knowledge myself  to  have  sinned  in  this 
respect,  and  deny  not  the  justice  of  the 
sentence  passed  upon  me." 

Satisfied,  at  length,  that  no  further  dis- 
closures could  be  obtained  from  him,  the 
King  signed  the  warrant  for  his  execution 
on  the  2nd  of  May. 

The  scaffold  was  erected  at  the  west  end 
of  Saint  Paul's  Cathedral,  on  the  spot 
where  Digby  and  the  other  conspirators 
had  suffered.  A  vast  assemblage  was 
collected  as  on  the  former  occasion,  and 
similar  precautions  were  taken  to  prevent 
tumult  and  disturbance.  The  unfortunate 
man's  torture  was  cruelly  and  unnecessarily 
prolonged  by  a  series  of  questions  proposed 
to  him  on  the  scaffold  by  Doctor  Overall 
and  the  Dean  of  Westminster,  all  of  which 
he  answered  very  collectedly  and  clearly. 
He  maintained  his  fortitude  to  the  last. 
When  fully  prepared,  he  mounted  the  lad- 
der, and  thus  addressed  the  assemblage: — 

"  I  commend  myself  to  all  good  Catho- 
lics. I  grieve  that  I  have  offended  the 
King  by  not  revealing  the  design  enter- 
tained against  him,  and  that  1  did  not  use 
more  diligence  in  preventing  the  execution 
of  the  plot.  I  commend  myself  most 
humbly  to  the  lords  of  his  Majesty's  coun- 
cil, and  entreat  them  not  to  judge  too  hard- 
ly by  me.  I  l)eseech  all  men  that  Catho- 
lics may  not  fare  the  worse  for  my  sake, 
and  1  exhort  all  Catholics  to  take  care  not 
to  mix  themselves  with  seditious  or  trai- 
torous designs  against  the  King's  Majesty, 
whom  God  preserve!" 

Making  the  sign  of  the  cross  upon  his 
forehead  and  breast,  he  continued: 

"  In  nomine.  Futris,  Filii,  et  Spiriius 
sandi!  Jesus  Maria!  Maria,  mater  gratiae! 
mater  misericordiw!  Tu  me  ah  haste  pro- 
tege, et  hard  mortis  suscipe!  In  mantis  tuas 
Domine,  commendo  spirilum  meum,  quia 
tu  redemisti  me,  Domine,  Deus  veritatis.^^ 


Again  crossing  himself  he  added, — "  Per 
crucis  hoc  signum  fugiat  procul  omne  ma- 
lignum!  Injige  crucem  tuam,  Domini,  in 
corde  meo!''^ 

And  with  this  last  pathetic  ejaculation 
he  threw  himself  from  the  ladder. 

Garnet  obtained,  after  death,  the  dis- 
tinction he  had  disclaimed  while  living. 
He  was  enrolled,  together  with  Oldcorne, 
among  the  list  of  Catholic  martyrs.  Seve- 
ral miracles  are  affirmed  by  the  Jesuits  to 
have  been  performed  in  his  behalf.  Father 
More  relates  that  on  the  lawn  at  Hendlip, 
where  he  and  Oldcorne  last  set  foot,  "  a 
new  and  hitherto  unknown  species  of 
grass  sprang  up  into  the  exact  shape  of  an 
imperial  crown,  and  remained  for  a  long 
time  without  being  trodden  down  by  the 
feet  of  passengers,  or  eaten  up  by  the  cat- 
tle." It  was  further  asserted  that  a  spring 
of  oil  burst  forth  at  the  west  end  of  Saint 
Paul's  Cathedral  on  the  precise  spot  where 
he  suffered.  But  the  most  singular  pro- 
digy is  that  recounted  by  Endajmon  Joan- 
nes, who  affirms  that  in  a  straw  which, 
had  been  sprinkled  with  Garnet's  blood,  a 
human  countenance,  strangely  resembling 
that  of  the  martyr,  was  discovered.  This 
legend  of  the  miraculous  straw,  having  re- 
ceived many  embellishments  and  improve- 
ments as  it  travelled  abroad,  obtained  uni- 
versal credence,  and  was  conceived  to 
fully  establish  Garnet's  innocence. 

Anne  Vaux,  the  Jesuit's  devoted  friend, 
retired  with  her  sister,  Mrs.  Brooksby,  to 
a  nunnery  in  Flanders,  where  she  ended, 
her  days. 

So  terminated  the  memorable  and  never- 
to-be-forgotten  Gunpowder  Treason,  for 
deliverance  from  which  our  church  still 
offers  thanksgivings,  and  in  remembrance 
of  which,  on  the  anniversary  of  its  dis- 
covery, fagots  are  collected  and  bonfires 
lighted  to  consume  the  effigy  of  the  arch- 
conspirator,  Guy  Fawkks. 


THE    END. 


^C 


^-s>HMn 


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